


Something Marvelous This Way Comes

by ThomE_Gemcity_06



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Rick and Morty, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AIs and Bots are Tony Stark's Children, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Brain Flirting, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Episode: s01e09 Something Ricked This Way Comes, Family Drama, Fluff, Gen, IronStrange, Irondad, Loki (Marvel) being the God of Mischeif and Chaos, M/M, Magic Rivals, Protective Tony Stark, Referenced/Past Mpreg, Rick & Morty Magic and Science, Slash, So Loki (Marvel) being a little shit, Stark-Strange Family, Superhusbands, Supremedad, Supremefamily, and I can be fudgey with the details because You Know Nothing Jon Snow!, meaning it is there it is possible it is happening, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThomE_Gemcity_06/pseuds/ThomE_Gemcity_06
Summary: "Careful with that urn, Peter," Loki warned with amusement. "It contains a malicious mischief spirit. While yes, it still would be contained in the store, it would head toward the closest viable host... your father.""What?" Peter squeaked, stepping back."Have fun!" Tony called to him as he headed for the door, a little too chipper in Peter's opinion. "Don't break anything, I don't think it's money that's accepted as payment here."Loki is the Devil, Tony is Rick, Peter is Summer.{Previously titled: Something Mischievous This Way Comes}
Relationships: Loki & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Something Marvelous This Way Comes

**Tag: "Something Ricked This Way Comes" from Ricky & Morty, Season 1 Episode 9.**

**a/n: This baby boy was something that I wrote back in April 2019 when I was on my Avengers kick but didn't post and kept in my computer (for reasons explained in END NOTEs).So, this is based (loosely) around "** _Something Ricked This Way Comes_ **" from** _Ricky & Morty_ **, Season 1 Episode 9. And yes, I know I'm supposed to be writing "One Thing". I already know, mom, but read this because I wrote it anyway.**

**[AVENGERS]/ rick & morty**

* * *

**Something Marvelous This Way Comes**

The soft piano melody that filled the lab was a vast contrast to the heavy metal that was the typical background to his work binges, but this wasn't some mad scientist session, this was far more important, personal, and delicate. It was the stuff that his mother used to play for him, it was what Stephen played, Tony on the bench beside him, baby Peter in his arms. It was a lullaby. It was love and care and devotion and that was what this moment needed.

What it deserved.

Tony's fingers danced fondly over the keys displayed in interaction holographic form, the intricate, beautiful lines of code running before him, slowly taking life. It took him a moment for his brain to register the silenced piano. He blinked in confusion, there were no alarms, Stephen wasn't calling. "JARVIS, what--?" the lab doors opened.

"Hey, dad." Peter called as he came through.

"Oh, Petey!" Tony smiled his way, brushing the hologram codes filling the area between them away with gentle wave before his son could hope to decipher them. "You're up early, and dressed." He eyed the teen with a cocked head. "It's the weekend, what's the special occasion?"

"I could ask the same thing." Peter countered instead of answering. "Have you been down here all night?" there was disapproval in his tone.

"The bed's so big and empty without your dad, I couldn't sleep." Tony confessed but then quickly perked up with a gasp, eyes shinning with a brilliant idea. "We should have a sleepover, me and you kids."

"Dad, I'm 15!" Peter protested.

"Yes, and I'm 40, what's your point?" Tony asked with clear confusion.

Peter sighed, carding fingers through his hair and scuffing the floor with his sneaker. "I'm too old for sleepovers with my dad."

Tony pouted. "But I thought you loved my snuggles?"

Peter squirmed under the power of his dad's doe eyes. "We can have a movie marathon night this weekend," he compromised.

"I'm holding you to that," Tony beamed, and if Peter fell asleep before him, that wasn't his fault, the crick in his neck from a night on the couch would be worth it. "So, why are you up so early?"

"I was wondering if you could give me a ride to work." Peter mumbled almost shyly.

Tony scratched his head. "What do you mean 'work', since when do you have a job? Does your father know?"

"It's for my hours at school, it's part-time, dad helped me a bit with it before he had to leave for his Mystic Arts diplomatic trip."

Tony narrowed his eyes, why hadn't anyone told _him_ about it? "What is this place and what exactly do you do there?"

"It's an antique thrift store that just opened, I sort the shelves and clean-up and stuff."

"Where are all these inclinations when it comes to cleaning your own room?" Tony wondered wryly.

"I can't help it if Dum-E, BUTTERFINGERS, and U sneak in there and do it before I can!" he protested.

Tony just managed to stop himself from laughing at that and instead raised a brow at him and tossed a wrench blindly back behind him, not taking his eyes from his son, arms crossed as said bots crashed into each other in a mad dash to retrieve the item. "There's nothing subtle about those three whatsoever. Want to try that again? I know you tweaked their parameters to extend to your room."

"They like it," he returned. "I'm not gonna be the bad big brother and tell them no. I don't like it when they sad beep."

Tony sighed and let his arms drop. "You're too soft on them, how are they ever gonna learn?"

"Like you when you threaten to donate them to a community college?"

Dum-E beeped quietly from Tony's side, the claw grasping the wrench drooping, BUTTERFINGERS and U’s own dejected beeps accompanying it as they huddled together. "See what you did?" he accused Peter. "I'm not sending you away to a community college," he assured the bots, petting and stroking them reassuringly until their beeps and whirs turned happy. He shooed the little herd of bots zooming away as he found their tennis ball and tossed it away before he turned to the teenager, "I don't remember writing such sass into your source code either, Astro." Tony eyed the boy critically. "Maybe it's you I should donate to a community college."

"W-w-w..." Peter stammered. "I'm human, you-you can't _give_ me away!" he protested.

"My precious boy," Tony murmured. "You are me and your father's greatest creation, I wouldn't just donate you to some community college in Cleveland—it would be M.I.T."

"Dad!"

Tony dropped the teasing as he saw the wetness in the whisky-coloured gaze that were a mirror of his own and how distressed his son actually seemed because Tony Stark actually had the brilliance and skill to back up the feat, it wasn't just some empty bluff. "Peter, Peter." Tony grasped his upper arms. "I was just teasing, I promise. I would never send you away," he pulled the boy to his chest, who clung to him, "None of you, even if you are all walking disasters, I love you the way you are." He pressed a kiss to Peter's forehead. "You are a part of your dad and I, we just didn't make you with our hands if you know what I mean!" he laughed at Peter's muffled sound of protest. "Your old pops, let me tell you, he kn--"

"Please stop!" Peter begged, pulling back, face red. "I really don't need to hear about and dad doing... ugh, _that_." He shuddered to Tony's great amusement.

"I like to remember not just because your dad's skill, but because it was the night we made you." Tony cupped his son's face. "You grew inside me for 8 months and 3 weeks, I was in labour for 38 hours before the doctors finally decided to cut you out."

"I'm also the reason you can't have more children." He croaked.

"What are you talking about?" he chided. "You have a sister on the way. FRIDAY. BUTTERFINGERS won't be the only girl in the house anymore. Don't tell dad," he smiled. "I want to surprise him when he finally gets home, we'll celebrate! JARVIS, party master, I'm handing the reins on that over to you."

"With pleasure, Sir. Master Peter, I would be pleased with your input to welcome our new sibling."

Peter sniffled and hugged his dad warmly. "Of course, J. It'll be a baby shower only fit for a Stark-Strange heiress."

"My boys," Tony cooed fondly into Peter's hair. "Such good big brothers." He let himself cuddle the teen a moment longer before releasing him. "Alright, come on, don't want to be late on your first day." He wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, pulling him against his side as he guided them from the lab. "I want to meet this fascinating task master that gets you to do chores for free when you freeload around here for a mighty generous allowance."

"Please don't."

...

"Alright, kid." Tony sighed, turning off the ignition and unclipping his seatbelt.

"Whoa! Wait, wait!" Peter exclaimed and practically launched himself into his dad's lap, gabbing his hand when he grasped the door release handle. "W-what are you doing?"

Tony raised a brow as he looked down at him. "I think I should be asking you that."

"Um," Peter pushed himself from Tony's lap with sharp teenage boy elbows. "Y-you were getting out of the car... w-why?" he cleared his throat.

"You're fifteen, Peter." Tony deadpanned. "I'm not leaving you in the care of a strange old man in some pop-up antique shop."

"I'm not a dog, this isn't some Doggy Day Care. I can go in by myself."

"Uh-huh. Come on, boy." Tony patted his thigh obligatorily before he closed the door.

"Dad!" Peter hissed, but scrambled out of the car after him. "Fine. Just-- please don't be embarrassing?"

"Me?" Tony put a hand to his chest in shock. "When have I ever embarrassed you? I'm the cool dad here."

Peter's expression was a complete contradiction to that statement. "You walking me into work is as embarrassing as you walking me into school my first day of high school."

"Yeah, but I'm the cool dad walking you into your first day of work—said coolness negates any standard embarrassment youth feels at these kinds of situations."

Peter face palmed with a groan. "You're using dad-logic, which is one of the most illogical line of reasoning known in the universe!"

"And that's kid-logic." Tony looked at the shop name on the large front display window, only for any display to be blocked out with closed blinds. " _Needful Things_ … like in the Stephen King novel?" He looked over at the teen, "This better not be some voodoo shop, Peter, or I swear to your father--!"

"Dad," Peter hissed. "Please behave!" he pushed open the shop door, the bell overhead chiming.

There was a maze of shelves and display cases filled the floor, lined with all manner of one-off items, not a duplicate in sight that Tony could see. JARVIS had already started preliminary scans even before entering the shop as traces of unregistered magic were picked up with the sensors in his sunglasses. The genius casually tapped the arm of his sunglasses, indicating JARVIS to start streaming the current data down the side of left lens, only visible from his side of the red-tinted lenses and calibrated to his own biometrics (as well as Peter and Stephen's for emergency situations) only, should they somehow fall into unwanted hands, the baddies were in for an explosive surprise.

"Mr L--!" Peter started to call.

"Ah, Peter!" A man stepped out from behind a display case, dressed in a black, fitted suit. "I was wondering when you would arrive, you just missed our very first customer. A rather misdirected mortal, he wandered in here thinking this was a massage parlour," a smile danced fleetingly across his lips. "I sent him on his way with a compass to guide his way to his desires."

Tony squinted at the man through the lenses against the shine of glamour that JARVIS was picking up and interfering with like the impressive baby boy he was, wondering what Peter's unprotected corneas were picking up because it certainly wasn't the character Tony was seeing as his son's new boss. Thankfully, the energy signature his sensors were picking up from the man didn’t pop up any flags to that of a vampire, siren, or incubus which all registered with their own glamour types.

"I’m sorry I’m late," Peter apologized quickly. "I promise it won’t happen again."

He was tall, taller than Tony (typically a certainty), even a few centimetres taller than Stephen (which wasn't), a slender form with long, oil black hair slicked back. The column of his long, pale neck could almost rival Stephen's, but no one could beat his husband's sharp cheekbones, and while the man's eyes were a magnetic green, Stephen's were like the ever-changing hues of the ocean, never the same blue or green at every second glance.

A facial alert did register on his right lens however from the scan automatically initiated from multiply agencies such as the Galactic Federation and Earth's own S.H.E.I.L.D. He hid the rigidity in his shoulders extremely well, along with quelling the urge to grab Peter behind him and let the suit come as he eyes scanned the extensive file of the man.

"A compass, that's old school." Tony commented. "You know, they have apps for that now, here in the 21st century."

"There's also something to be said for manual intelligence, very rare these days, relying on yourself, not some program someone created. Tony Stark." There was no surprise that he was known without proper introduction. He was a household face and name, known throughout Earth and into the galaxy. "Intelligence breeds intelligence, doesn't it?"

"Ah, as much as I want to claim credit, Peter's intelligence is all his own." Tony held out his hand, "Mister...?"

A cool hand grasped his. "Laufeyson."

"Mr Laufeyson," Tony repeated slowly, shaking the hand the same. "You are not exactly what I had in mind when Peter described this place... I was picturing an old, creepy man, strands of cat hair on his suit despite only have a weird, shivering Sphynx cat lurking around here somewhere with a bell around its neck." Tony darted a glance around just in case.

"Dad!" Peter hissed, heat in his cheeks, darting a glance at Mr Laufeyson. "You're being rude."

"No, I'm not." Tony returned. "I'm giving him a compliment! He's nothing like I pictured he would be."

But Peter looked flustered. "Mr Laufeyson, I am so sorry about my dad--"

"You should never apologize for your parents, Peter, their mistakes are their own."

"Pete, why don't you go earn your hours, dust something over there," Tony flapped his hand, "While I talk to Mr Laufeyson—this place looks like it could use it—over there by the creepy urn... but stay away from that lamp that looks suspiciously like a housing unit for a genie."

"It's okay, Peter." Mr Laufeyson nodded at the teen. "There are supplies in the back room. It's unlocked, go ahead."

Peter looked between the two, giving his dad a warning glare before he nodded to Mr Laufeyson and headed toward the backroom. The two men watched until he disappeared behind the door, but not before the teen shot them one last glance. Instantly, the two refocused on each other, gazes intense and assessing.

"Listen closely, Mr Laufeyson—or should I call you Loki Odinson, God of Mischief and Chaos, Prince of Lies, Liesmith, Silvertongue?"

Loki gave him a shark smirk, unperturbed at his revealed identity. "Such a mouthful," he mused. "Loki Laufeyson is just fine, Iron Man, Merchant of Death, Saviour of Our Time, Futurist," he returned. "Isn't that what they call you, Anthony Edward Stark?"

"Stark-Strange," Tony deigned to correct. Despite Tony having been married for almost 17 years, people still seemed to forget. Maybe it was because he'd been the face of Stark Industries practically since he was born and it wasn't like he changed the _company_ name when he married.

"Anthony."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I prefer Tony, thanks very much."

"Names are a powerful thing."

"And S.H.E.I.L.D. and the G.F. seem to have your number, Reindeer Games." Tony remarked, Loki's brow raising. "Just saw your leather get-up in one of your many photos in all your wanted, holographic glory. I can kind of dig the whole... horn thing you got going. Don't looks so pleased; everyone has a gimmick these days, you just happen to look good in yours. See, I'm detecting a bunch of questionable magic mojo all over these 'antiques', and seeing as you are the literal God of Mischief I can only assume that translates into 'cursed'. Am I right or am I right?"

"You are as clever they say, aren't you?" Loki looked pleased at the idea.

"I do aim to please," Tony quipped. "See, I don't know what your game is here on Earth just yet, Maleficent, but know, this Planet is under Iron Man's protection and I get a little cranky when people mess with my stuff."

"Just a bit of mischief and chaos, nothing malevolent about it."

"Mm-hm," Tony hummed noncommittally, looking the trickster up and down, entirely unconvinced. "The Alphabet Soup of Outer Space Agencies sure seem to have something stuck in their craw over a 'just a bit of mischief and chaos'."

"Yes, but you and I both know what a large stick they have up their backsides."

Tony thought the quiet snort was justified at the unexpected rejoinder, his response certainly garnered a little smirk from Loki. Tony adopted a more serious expression. "You're right, they are a bunch of up-tights, I have no problem with some mischief, April Fool's sometimes gets a little away from me but that just makes it all the more fun—S.H.E.I.L.D. really needs a hobby if a trickster is on their Priority. Most Wanted list, really?" he shook his head. "As longs as you don't go murder someone, disrupt the government, or permanently maim one of your customers, you won't lock horns with Iron Man."

Loki gave a sigh. "That cuts away half the fun, but if you insist, Man of Iron."

"Don't get cute, because," Tony stepped into the trickster's personal space, his demeanour turning hard, "You'll be dealing with a completely different beast if one of your... 'clientele' show up back here looking for retribution and a hair on _my son's_ head is harmed in your games, it won't be S.H.E.I.L.D. that you'll have to worry about coming to knock the door down—you'll be dealing with **me**." Tony told him quietly, but his tone was far from soft, not shifting his gaze. "Not Iron Man the Avenger, not Tony Stark the Tech Genius. **Me** , Tony Stark-Strange the Father. No one does harm to my kid and walks away, get it, Loki?"

Loki didn't flinch away and steadily returned Tony's gaze, not a hint of mischief about him. "I would not allow anything to befall Peter while in my employ, that is one thing you most certainly can trust of me on." He vowed. "Do not fear of clientele or the wares in here alike, Anthony, all of these trinkets are contained and null within the magical barriers I have on the store. Barring that, he has a, what shall we call it? Employee Protection Clause."

Tony's whiskey gaze narrowed as he searched the trickster's ethereal green eyes for deception, JARVIS scanning for a visual ticks; this was the God of Mischief, a Liesmith, Silvertongue, he would easily deceive even him, the Tony Stark, but even for all that...

"I suppose that would be one deal with the devil that I would have no regret making." Tony finally took a step back.

"The devil; how predictable and dull."

Tony chuckled quietly. "Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me to know that those are two things you are not."

Loki smirked in response.

Peter finally appeared from the back room, a feather duster in one hand, a rag over his shoulder, and a bottle of Windex hanging off his belt to clean the glass display cases. His gaze immediately went to the two. "Everything okay out here?"

"Everything is fine, Peter." Loki said. "Your father and I were just coming to an agreement."

"Did you get lost back there or something?" Tony wondered. "You were gone a long time and gave me lots of time to tell your boss a bunch of adorable things about you."

"It’s bigger on the inside," he defended.

Tony blinked at him son, before turning to stare at Loki. "Did you Doctor Who this place? Is it like the TARDIS in here? It doesn’t look or feel bigger."

"You’re welcome look around," Loki gave him an open gesture.

Tony grinned. "J, buddy, no need to be subtle anymore, go thermal and laser, baby, give me a picture of this place." A red laser beamed from the corner frame of his glasses, a steady light as he did a complete turn.

"Dad!" Peter gaped. "Are you openly using JARVIS to spy on my boss?"

"He offered," Tony defended. "And of course, JARVIS started scanning the second he detected unregistered magic in the area." Peter opened his mouth to protest. "I’m either going to be very disappointed in you later if I found out you knew your boss is the God of Mischief and didn’t tell me, or your dad is that his Spidey Magic Sense Charm didn’t work… which is it gonna be?" Peter’s jaw closed with a click. Tony approached his son. "That’s what I thought, now get back to work and let papa have his fun." Tony patted him on the bum as he passed behind him, much to the teen’s mortification.

Peter made sure from there on to keep dad in his sightline as he continued to carefully dust as the man walked the floor, looking but not touching, a rare feat for Tony Stark where touching was half the fun.

"Whoa," Tony realized as he turned back and Loki was a greater distance from him than he was expecting, he'd only gone about 15 feet, yet the distance was double that. "When did that happen?" he took measured step back towards Loki, who was watching him with amusement, and suddenly, between steps, Tony was imperceptivity closer than he should have been. Tony stepped back a step, but nothing changed, there was no shift. "What the hell?" he mumbled. "JARVIS, are you seeing this?"

"I don't believe I am, Sir."

Tony mumbled to himself as he stepped into the back aisle, the same slow measured steps. There were no spikes in the readings on his glasses, nothing changed visually for him. He had the blueprints of the store from the scan JARVIS did earlier on his left lens, he calculated the measurement mentally, visually, with his steps. It all added up. He reached the back of the shop, the case in front of him displayed a wrinkle, three-fingered monkey's paw, a pair of knitting needles, a stuffed peacock, an intricate gold framed hand mirror. The paw was as easy to guess as the brass lamp Tony warned Peter not to polish, the peacock's curse was obscure, the mirror probably sucked you in or turned you to stone or something. Tony turned from the display, ignoring his hero job at the moment for science and stilled because once again, the room stretched inaccurately before him.

"JARVIS," he growled frustration. "Why aren't you seeing what I am?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Sir, other than the dimensions I am seeing now are very much the same as the first scan. Perhaps you should not cancel the next appointment with the optometrist next quarter."

"Sass, J, that's what I'm hearing." Tony started the journey back. This wasn't a glamour, if it was JARVIS would have seen right through it. No, this was something else. "My eyesight is just fine, I--!" Tony came face-to-face with a creepy gaggle of wood carved puppets. "Okay, now you're just messing with me!" Tony threw his hands up, turning to glare at the trickster who hadn't moved, studying his nails.

Loki chuckled. "Took you long enough, and here I believed you the greater claim of intelligence on this planet."

"Oh, you clearly have no idea who you just threw the gauntlet down to," Tony smirked.

"Oh?" Loki wondered curiously, stepping closer to the inventor.

Tony mirrored it. They were back in each other's space, practically nose-to-nose, gazes glinting with both mischief and challenge. "Oh, yeah. I'm invested now, got time to kill while the hubby's away. I'll make a device that'll reveal every curse in this place," he waved his hand behind him. "Put you right out of your wicked little business venture."

Loki chuckled quietly. "It shall be entertaining to watch the great Tony Stark fail."

"Stark-Strange. And I don't fail, I crush my opponents with excellent style and flare, ease blow of your defeat with glitter and gold."

"Dad," Peter finally gave up and took his dad's arm, pulling him back from his boss. "Please, you said you weren't going to do anything to embarrass me."

Tony finally broke from the dancing green gaze and looked to the teen. "Don't worry, Petey, me dusting the floor with your boss's finely dressed ass won't affect your hours, pinkie swear." He held up his pinkie to the devastated looking brunette. "Pinkie promise, see?" he crossed his other arm over his chest and wiggled his other pinkie at the God, his gold titanium alloy band shining faintly on his ring finger.

Loki rolled his eyes but wrapped his long, pale pinkie around Tony's. "It's just a little game between your father and I."

Peter sighed heavily and let Tony have his pinkie with slumped shoulders. "As long as it doesn't get out of hand like with the Zigerions..." he mumbled.

Tony scoffed, offended. "That was not my fault, I didn't start it. Was I just supposed go along with it while they kidnapped me and stuck me in some bug-ass simulator to try and get their hands on JARVIS' code? Let them get away with trying to replicate you and your dad, too?" Tony shook his head, hands resting on Peter's shoulders. "Those interstellar scammers are just lucky the Federation showed up with your Uncle Rhodey when they did."

"You made an enemy out of the Zigerions and got put of the Federation's watch list, dad."

"This is different," Tony assured, massaging his son's tense and wary shoulders. "This is a friendly game of besting, it's completely different. For starters, it's mutual competition, we've already established no killing or maiming and you're Switzerland. Science v. Hocus-Pokus," he sent a wink to the trickster.

Loki's eyes narrow and his thin lips pursed. "It's the mildly intelligent ones that are the most entertaining to fool."

"See? The confidence of a God who doesn't know he's lost yet, the scent is so sweet." Tony cooed. He pulled Peter in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Now get back to work my little Oompa Loompa, I'll be back to pick you up in a few hours." He shooed the teen away. "And no scheming against me with your boss!"

With lips pursed, Peter was a little aggressive with his dusting as he glowered at his dad with a little side-eye.

"Careful with that urn, Peter," Loki warned with amusement. "It contains a malicious mischief spirit. While yes, it still would be contained in the store, it would head toward the closest viable host... your father."

"What?" Peter squeaked, stepping back.

"Have fun!" Tony called to him as he headed for the door, a little too chipper in Peter's opinion. "Don't break anything, I don't think it's money that's accepted as payment here."

"Say, before you depart," Loki was suddenly at his side, coy, "Might I interest you in a microscope, a scientist such as yourself? It will reveal things beyond your comprehension, perhaps even give you an advantage in the game. I'm not above giving handicaps in a game of fun to an opponent who's wanting."

Tony snorted and eyed the piece of ancient looking equipment in the trickster’s hands. "Yeah, like I’m going to fall for that." He said dryly. "You just said it was the mildly intelligent ones that are most entertaining and now you’re trying to pawn a cursed microscope on me? No thanks, Foxy."

"Ah, but there’s nothing mild about you, Anthony, of that I can already see."

"I'm a married man and while I enjoy brain flirting as much as the next guy, it won't do you any favours—but... seeing as you're being so _nice_ and _genuine_ about it, I'll bite." He cocked his head. "As long as I don't need to sign away my soul in blood or something,"

"No soul or blood needed, just a gift from one competitor to another."

Tony eyed the trickster. "Alright, Slytherin." He wasn't stupid, he knew this was the God's play to try and trip him up, curse him, but Tony was smart enough not to get cursed, especially with JARVIS as he partner. Really, either way, it was more of an advantage having the cursed object, something to scan and study that was directly imbued with Loki unique magic, which was very unlike Stephen's and those in the Mystic Arts. "Thanks for the present—and it isn't even my birthday." Tony took the golden microscope carefully but without hesitation.

"My pleasure, Anthony." Loki smiled with fabulous wickedness.

...

Tony secured the microscope in a containment unit on one of his many benches in the lab, setting JARVIS the task of more invasive scans now that he was back at home base and headed up to the kitchen for some much needed caffeine.

"Call the hubby, would you, J?" Tony tossed his glasses onto the counter, filling his mug with the dark rich brew. He cupped the mug with both hands and inhaled the aromatic steam in appreciation before taking his first sip. "Mm," he hummed, exhaling in pleasure as life's nectar touched his tongue. He took a second, deeper drink, hips wagging in delight as he continued to enjoy his coffee.

"Those noises and that ass will always perk me up more than coffee ever could." A gorgeous baritone spoke up behind him and instead of choking on his coffee, he preened, setting his mug down.

Tony wasn't sure he was actually expecting for the call to be picked up, not because of shoddy cell service across the galaxy (he was Tony Stark after all) but because Stephen could have been in a meeting for all he knew. He canted his hip and looked back sensually back over his shoulder at the holographic projection of his husband amidst the kitchen in all his Sorcerer Supreme regalia, the Cloak of Levitation as always in company. "Only you and coffee can make me sound like that."

"Prestigious company, then." Stephen remarked sarcastically.

"Yes," Tony said seriously, turning to face him. "Hi, Levi." He wiggled his fingers in greeting. The Cloak's collar waved in return. "You got a few minutes?"

"Lucky timing, I just got out of a session. What's up?"

"Peter told me about his hours-thing—you helped him?"

"Tried. But you know he's more your science than mine," Tony quirked a brow. "He turned down my offer to get him a spot under Christine."

Well, that answered that. Stephen did not set Peter up at Curse 'R Us like the teen had implied this morning, not that Tony was all that surprised by now. He already suspected from a few key factors, the magic, the owner, Peter's unwillingness to have Tony accompany him into the shop, and the click of teeth snapping shut at Tony's direct accusation was as guilty as a confession. A parent just knew when their child was hiding something, and Peter had never been the best liar whilst he and Stephen were accomplished at facades. But really, all this time in the back of his mind, the clincher had been that fact that Stephen would have told him if he was setting Peter up to work for the magical Aesir known as Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischief and Chaos, the wanted criminal—or he simply wouldn't have and that was the whole point.

No, this was sneaky Peter Pumpkin, or... no. Tony didn't believe that Loki was an _enemy_ , trying to gain leverage over either himself or Stephen (which would be more likely with the magical connection), who was Earth's Sorcerer Supreme of the Mystic Arts. If Tony had believed that scenario for even an instant, that antique shop would have been turned to rumble and Peter would be home, safe with him and not still in the trickster's employ.

"So, he finally came to you?" Stephen wondered. "Where'd he end up, R & D?"

"Uh, no." Tony gave his head a little shake, focusing. "He just sprung it on me this morning, apparently he already found somewhere. I just got back from dropping him off."

"Oh? Where'd he end up?"

"Some antique shop," he chuckled quietly to himself. "Helping out this old man who owns it."

"Ah, well that's unexpected but at the same time not."

"Yeah," Tony sighed ruefully, if the surface of it was the truth, then that was Peter to a T. But what was their son really up to? They were definitely in for a long talk when he picked up the teen. "That beautiful, clever boy. But anyway," Tony leaned back against the counter, hips jutting out. Stephen's eyes burned a seductive trail down his body. "Oh, baby, if I could make out with a hologram, I would." Tony said smokily, leering at his husband. " _Oh!_ " he breathed and perked up, his whiskey gaze shifting, looking through Stephen's projection, distant but active as his mind already started running through the logistics of it. Oh, that could definitely be a project for the both of them. "Why haven't I thought of this before?"

Stephen watched him with a fond amusement. "Of course thinking about sex would lead you to the innovation of complete sensory interactive holographic simulation."

"What can I say, I miss you." Tony told him, but then shook his head. "I'll have to back burner it for now, I got a couple projects already on my plate that need my attention. We can science on S.I.H.P. together when you get back."

A smile flickered across Stephen's cupid bow lips at the acronym 'sip'. "Oh? And what projects are those?"

"One's a surprise—a good surprise," Tony added at Stephen's sceptical brow raise. "The other fell into my lap this morning. Really, my intelligence was questioned and you know I gotta show the haters."

"I would say I pity the fool but that would be a blatant lie. They deserve the smack down you give them, honey."

"My personal cheerleader!" Tony grinned. "I love it when you support my 'put people in their places' projects, dear."

"I love watching you work—It's for my own pleasure really."

"And you know how I love to pleasure you." Tony licked his lips, approaching the hologram.

Stephen's oceanic gaze traced the movement of his tongue. "You're incorrigible," he murmured.

Tony could almost imagine the breath brushing against his lips and shivered. "So," Tony said, clearing his throat and stepping back to perch on a breakfast bar stool after a few minutes of utterly intense eye-sex. "How goes the 'wizard-plomacy'—'Magi-mediation'? Hm. Fine... How's the Supremely Tedious Underhanded Political Interplanetary Doody Inept Transactions Yah-boo going?"

"I think you spelled out perfectly," Stephen affected drily. "S.T.U.P.I.D.L.Y. You know how these things go, tremendously slow and boring with a few tantrums thrown in for good measure."

"Tell it to the empty bed. Say," Tony wondered. "You got an hour? You could portal over here," he waggled his brows suggestively. "Wait, can it be called 'portal sex' if you just portal over here and have me against the counter? No, it would have to be _in_ the portal... I'd be here on Earth and you'd be over there on another planet and then we would meet gloriously in the middle. Yeah. We should do that—like right now." Tony stood and started to unbuckle his belt to prove it. "Come on, babe, shake a leg."

"As interesting as that may be to try, Tones, I could easily lose concentration and the portal would close... severing us at our connected juncture."

"Ah," Tony winced and raised his hands away from his undone belt. "No thanks. As much as I like your cock in me, I like it still attached to you just a bit better."

"Thanks," Stephen commented dryly. "I'm glad you think so."

Tony slumped onto the stool with a sigh. "It was an interesting thought though. Or," he shot his husband a sly look, "What if _Wong_ \--"

"No." He said immediately.

Tony pouted. "But he owes me for the StarkPod I gave him with all those awesome upgrades."

"I don't care. I'm not involving Wong in our sex lives because you want to try a new kink."

"Or is it because he'll be able to tell how long you last? Because you have nothing to be embarrassed of, Steph, my Magic Stud Muffin." He winked.

"Tony." Stephen grumbled. Tony could only chuckle as the Cloak's collar stroked against the doctor's warm cheeks. "Stop that." Stephen swatted at it.

"You two are adorbs," Tony cooed.

Levi's collar turned up at that, but not like it was offended, more preening at the description, unlike his wearer. "I am not... 'adorbs'."

"I've seen you wear nothing but socks, bedhead and Levi. You are completely and infallibly adorbs, Dr Stark-Strange."

"Alright. If that's all?" Stephen replied haughtily, turning his nose up dismissively at the conversation.

"No, no." Tony held up his hands placatingly. "Just a couple more things. First, I love you, Boo Boo."

Stephen cleared his throat. "Love you, Ranger Smith."

"You too, Yogi." Tony blew the pair a kiss and a wink. The Cloak rippled pleasantly against Stephen's back. "And on a completely unrelated note... you ever run into a dude called Loki on one of your Magic Bus rides? Has a thing for horns and mischief."

Stephen's demeanour shifted. "Why are you asking about the God of Parlor Tricks?" his tone was derisive.

"I guess that means 'yes'." Tony noted with cocked brow. "Not a fan, huh?"

"I've had to banish him from Earth a time or two, let's just say. Why are you asking? Have you seen him?" the Cloak fluttered subtly at Stephen's shoulders, picking up the master's unease. "He must have slipped through our wards--"

"No, no." Tony said quickly, waving a hand. "Just browsing through S.H.E.I.L.D's ol' files and I came across Reindeer Games' profile pic."

"Oh," Stephen gave him a long look. "Tony...?"

"Yes, dear?" Tony slurped his coffee.

"Please don't engage with the being known as Loki," Stephen said slowly. "If you see him, let the sorcerers at the New York Sanctum take care of him."

"You called him the 'God of Parlor Tricks' and then warn me off in the next breath," Tony said in confusion. "I was just looking at his file. Is there something _you're_ not saying? I mean, you apparently have magical history with the guy."

Stephen rolled his shoulders against Levi, its collar was turned up and giving the sorcerer what Tony interpreted as a pointed look. Stephen ignored it utterly. "Just... an annoyance. Like Hammer."

"Hm," Tony watched Stephen, sipping the last dregs of his coffee. Well, apparently both his son and husband were keeping secrets from him in regards to the trickster Loki. "Then I can see where you're coming from."

Stephen practically slumped with relief at Tony's acceptance. "I better go. Love you, Tones. Tell Peter I love him, too."

"Course. Love you." The sorcerer and Cloak blinked from existence.

Tony sat in the kitchen a while longer, contemplating as he nursed a fresh cup, but it seemed the only answers he was going to find would be in the lab, for now at least. Any others would have to wait until he picked up Peter. "Alright." He heaved a sigh and himself off the stool, drained his cup before going to refill it to take down to the lab to work.

"Might I suggest some solid sustenance before going to the lab, Sir?" It was phrased as a question but certainly wasn't posed as one. "It has been almost 17 hours since you last ate."

"That sounded like an order, J."

"Merely looking out for you best interest, Sir. You will better be able to work at peak capacity in the lab upon a full stomach. One less distraction."

"Sly, JARVIS. That was sly and sneaky." But Tony could only ever be proud of such moods.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Don't let it go to the codes, alright?" he chuckled and endeavoured to throw a couple of Peter's Hot Pockets in the toaster oven. "You barely fit into the building as it is."

"I get my personality matrix from you, Sir."

"Baby Boy, you're gonna melt your old man's heart saying things like that."

...

By the time it was rounding for him to go and pick up Peter, DUM-E was armed the fire extinguisher and posted between the containment unit and the inventor. The bot would beep, gesturing the extinguisher threateningly his way if Tony so much as glanced that way in the lab for too long because the scans were taking so damn long and Tony's curiosity was getting to the level of 'just-let-me-look-into-the-cursed-thing-just-to-see-what-happens' stage. JARVIS definitely saw it coming and had given DUM-E the task of sentinel, BUTTERFINGERS and U were like circling sharks, warding him off when he shifted in that direction. It was both frustrating and endearing.

So, in the interlude, Tony tinkered with the spider drone he was working on for Peter's upcoming Sweet 16! instead of FRIDAY because the cursed microscope was distracting him and his baby girl's code deserved his full attention. By the time he was done with Peter, the scans would be over and it would finally be tinker time!

The bell overhead jingled magically as he pushed the door open and stepped into the shop. He wondered what pour schmuck walked away with a curse today thinking they found their own personalized four leaf clover instead. He didn't spot Peter polishing away with the little feather duster but he did immediately spot the tall, regal form behind the counter.

"As you can see, I am my usual awesome, intelligent, hot brilliant self," he gave the trickster a turn, "In case you were thinking of celebrating an early victory."

"I would have been immensely disappointed had you fallen for the obvious deception like any other unintelligent, dull mortal of this uncultured planet." Loki said plainly.

"Well, thanks, I guess." He muttered with a shake of his head. "Where Peter?" Tony leaned forward on the counter, braced on his forearms.

"In the back," Loki replied, setting a small, intricately carved wooden music box gently on the shelf behind him. "He'll be out shortly."

He tapped his fingers, glancing around in the ensuing silence. "How do you even get your victims—ahem, _customers_ —to come in here?" Tony questioned. "No offence."

"Curiosity, Anthony." Loki told him simply. "You humans just can't help yourselves." And he heard Loki murmur in his ear, breath brush against his skin, yet the trickster stood in front of him on the other side of the counter. "The indecision, the misplaced confidence, the need to know. It's absolutely delicious to watch the failure, such sweet sorrow."

"Um," Tony slowly turned his head and flinched when he met Loki's vibrant green eyes and smirking mouth. "JARVIS," he muttered accusingly out the corner of his mouth. He could still see the other Loki behind the counter from the corner of his eye interacting with various objects the lined the shelf against the wall.

"I am registering two presences," JARVIS intoned in Tony's ear in agreement. "Sir."

"Thanks for the warning." He deadpanned. Eyes still trained on the... Lokies, Tony registered the data on his lenses, four registered heartbeats in the building; Tony, Peter in the backroom (the teen's bio signature a fact in his database), Loki behind the counter... and Loki by him. "Interesting," he mumbled to himself and reached out, expecting his hand to go through the man like a projection or mirage. "You're solid," he uttered in surprise as he palm landed solidly against the god's slim chest. Tony could feel the rise and fall as Loki breathed, the faint thrum of his beating heart, it was so real. It could only be real.

"Of course."

Tony looked at the behind-the-counter-Loki, dropping his hand from the other's chest. "Are _you_ solid?" he queried.

"I suppose there's only one way to find out," Loki suggested over his shoulder, adjusting an array of glass bottles, each a different size, shape and hue. Some filled with liquid, others objects, some with opaque glass that there was no telling, nor did their appear to be any labels, just different types of string tied around the necks. Some corked, some screw-topped, others hinged. There were a couple that were emitting a glow, but Tony stowed that curiosity for the time being to focus on the whole double-trouble thing.

"Don't tempt me."

Other-Loki chuckled. "Care to guess which is yours truly?" he challenged, a slim dagger appearing in his hand in a flash of green. Tony's gaze was drawn to it as the trickster twirled it through his long fingers.

"It can't just be some illusion, I'm detecting two life signs, two heart beats, two heat signatures. If it was another glamour, JARVIS would see right through it," Tony tapped his glasses. His hand shot out and he managed to snatch the blades handle as the trickster twirled it.

Loki's surprise and interest showed in his raised brow, but he didn't stop Tony as the man inspected it with delicate touches and a keen gaze. There were ruins engraved in the metal (he made sure JARVIS got a good scan) but as he ran the pads of his fingers over them, he couldn't feel the edges of the marks. Definitely solid, definitely real.

"Beautiful," Tony whispered, more to himself than anything. Knives weren't really his area of expertise, but he always recognized something beautifully crafted. The pad of Tony's index finger was nicked by the tip as he reached the end of the blade, he absently licked the single ruby bead from his finger, not noticing the subtle tensing of Loki's spine at the action as he continue his examination.

The palm of his hand around the hilt tingled and he felt the buzz of heat.

"It's warm!" he exclaimed in wonder, and Loki's regular posture returned. "Wait," Tony finally looked at the trickster, "This isn't dipped in poison or something, or imbued with some kind of curse that'll activate with the taste of blood, right?" he asked, perhaps a little belatedly.

Loki rolled his green eyes in derision. "I'm not some _witch_."

Tony held up his left hand in concession. "Can't blame a guy for being cautious."

"I believe you to mean reckless, caution seems to be an afterthought in your regard."

"He's got you there, Sir." JARVIS piped up in his ear.

Tony ignored the AI. "I apply caution when it's applicable, the rest... well, that's just called fun."

Loki smirked. "So, have you discerned which of us is the real Loki, or perhaps neither?"

"Sure," Tony flipped the blade around with a toss, managing to catch the sharp blade without cutting his fingers off and flicked it over the counter. Behind-the-counter-Loki's eyes looked at him with surprise as the dagger flew towards him and Tony had a moment of panic that he'd been wrong before the tip went through his chest and Loki vanished in a gold and green flash. The dagger knocked harmlessly against the shelf, causing some of the bottles to rock and clatter but not fall and break (thankfully. Who knew what kind of trouble that could have unleashed) and before it could fall, vanished in the same kind of flash as the Loki double. So, not so solid after all, then.

"Impressive. What gave me away?" Loki wondered.

Tony looked back at the real Loki, smug. "Dust. I guess Peter never got around to behind the counter, or maybe he's just bad at his job."

"Are you suggesting I fire him?" Loki raised a brow.

"No, I'll let you keep him for now." Tony allowed imperiously. "Some manual labour can only do him good, Christ knows he cheated himself out of it at home."

"As you wish."

"But really," Tony returned to their former conversation before all the lovely distracting. "That can't be the entirety of it." He waved his hand. "Curiosity. You had to have put some kind of charm on the place to make them take that final step through the door. I mean... come on!" He waved his hand in gesture at the place again.

"Ah, but let's look at it through metaphorical rose tinted glasses, hm?" and Loki reached up, long, pale fingers removing Tony's glasses and settling them amongst his dark brunette locks.

Tony blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering as he stared at the trickster, his visual cortex trying to integrate the abrupt, yet complete change in scenery before him as his gaze darted around. The shop was sleek and modern. The minx fur looked fresh off the truck from some posh luxury shop on 30th, instead of the faded shawl from great-grandma's trunk in the attic he'd seen earlier. In fact, nothing appeared to be dug out of and put on display from great gram's attic trunk, but everything looked modern, new, and quality. It was one big glamour, an illusion on the entire store, not just the owner.

Tony gaped. "Oh, you are one cunning craftsman, aren't you, trickster of my dreams?" It was said with a mixture of respect and delight. His gaze turned back to the God a huge grin on his mouth. "No wonder Peter looked so panicked earlier. Hello, Mr Leland Guant." He looked the mage up and down, "God, is that thing _real_?" and with no impulsive control or life preservation instincts, Tony reached up and touched the silver moustache that adorned Loki’s illusion appearance.

It was like smelling something strong and sharp and then eating an apple, the smell and taste receptors get crossed and confused, making the apple's taste appear like the smell. That was what was happening with his touch. He could see the moustache, was touching it (and the illusion didn't disappear or waver like behind-the-counter-Loki-illusion), _he knew he was_ , yet. His brain tried to compensate, fill in the blanks and created a phantom texture of what he _expected_ to feel instead of what he actually was feeling—the smooth, cool skin of Loki's upper lip. It was a total mind-fuck.

Loki's eyes narrowed marginally. "Remove your hand or I shall remove it from you." He spoke lowly.

Tony pulled his hand back immediately. "That was scary."

"Yet, you look thrilled," Loki noted.

Tony shrugged. "Curiosity. You can't blame me, I am human after all. It'll eventually get me killed but at least I'll have died _knowing_ , right?" he smirked, planting his hands on his hips and rocking back on his heels in satisfaction.

Tony had been assessing Loki with a new light due to a few newfound facts he had uncovered, like his past with Stephen that Tony didn't know the exact details of.

Loki was wanted by The Alphabet Soup of Outer Space Agencies, but really, that held little credit in Tony's eyes when those organizations were so _sensitive_. Tony had been on a watch list a time or three of theirs in the past for things. No, what Tony took more note of was the trickster on the Masters of the Mystic Arts shit list, particularly his husband's, the Sorcerer Supreme of the whole magic cult. Apparently the God of Mischief was feeling mutual with it too if that 'two-bit hack' comment was anything to go by.

Hammer was an annoyance, a fly in the ointment; but Loki, Loki was definite Magical Arch Enemy Material and Tony was a bit damned jealous. Tony only ever got one-hit wonders, which he supposed was really for the best, there was no need to put his family in any more danger because he wished for a villainous playmate when he got bored, but still. He mentally pouted.

"Gotta admit, I'm totally impressed with your whole illusive setup," Tony said, "But how the hell have the nerds at the magic museum not detected this place? It's saturated in magic, one big hot spot. JARVIS picked it up." He shook his head. "Man, the significant other's really gonna be pissed when he finally catches wind of this setup." He muttered.

"Why should I have a care who your husband is and why he would be 'pissed at me'?" Loki questioned genuinely.

Tony blinked at him. "You know? My last name? Stark-Strange?" Loki gave him a blank stare. "Strange, as in Doctor Strange, The Sorcerer Supreme of the Mystic Arts, Earth's defender against all things magical and protector of reality?"

The silence stretched, a mild pinch between his brows as his green eyes stared at the shorter man. "The two-bit hack with the dull party cape?"

Tony couldn't stop the involuntary snort and Loki looked a little too pleased by the response. But his expression cleared and he held up his hand, raising his fingers one at a time, "Firstly, that's my husband and the badass Cloak of Levitation you're talking about, so watch it. Second, he called you the God of Parlor Tricks so I'll allow that this once and only because Peter wasn't here to hear it. And third," he voice went low and deadly, just like his whiskey gaze, "If you taking Peter in is some ploy to get at my husband, no magic, power, or authority in the universe will save you from my wrath."

"I do not harm _children_ , just fools, so I cannot guarantee your husband's wellbeing should we happen to cross paths again."

"Then you won't need to guess whose side I'll be on if that happens, no matter this game of ours." Tony returned.

"I would expect nothing less, Anthony Stark."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Tony Stark-Strange."

Loki dismissed Tony’s preference for his own. "I like Anthony Stark better."

Tony just sighed and shook his head, flicking his glasses from his head back down onto the bridge of his nose. After a moment of calibration, the real Loki appeared once again through the interference of his lenses; that putting him more at ease than the illusion of an old man.

The door to the backroom opened, pulling Tony's gaze from the trickster. "And the Prodigal Son Returns! Did you get lost, Alice, or what?"

"I kept getting distracted." Peter admitted. "Mr Laufeyson has a lot of interesting things back there."

"I bet he does!" Tony grinned.

"Dad!" Peter complained, approaching the pair. "How long have you been bothering Mr Laufeyson?"

"Mean," Tony frowned at him. "If I was 'bothering' Loki, he doesn't seem the type to be quiet about it."

"He's quiet correct, Peter." Loki agreed. "Have no fear that I have no issue putting your father in his place should I deem it necessary."

"See?" Tony threw a thumb at the mage. "Take his word if you won't take mine, apparently."

Peter totally ignore him and looked to Loki, "Thank you, Mr Laufeyson. I'll be back tomorrow at the same time?"

"Of course," Loki agreed.

"What, no farewell wishes for me?" Tony gave him a pout.

"I assumed you would be clinging to your son's coattails tomorrow same as you did today."

"If that was supposed to be insulting, it wasn't." Tony said haughtily. "I create and cling to greatness." And wrapped an arm around Peter, pulling the teen close, much to said teen's mortification. "Case and point."

"Yes. It's also why you can't keep yourself away." Loki noted with satisfaction.

"Walked into that one."

"Okay. Ahem. We'll just be going now." And Peter grabbed his dad's arm from around his shoulder and insistently pulled him out the door. "Bye, Mr Laufeyson!" he called back just before the shop door closed.

"Jeez, Pete, you trying to dislocate my shoulder or what?" Tony wondered as the teen didn't stop tugging him until they made it down the sidewalk to the parked orange Audi.

"If it'd get you to move faster," he muttered under his breath.

"Hey," Tony said, somewhat sharply, done playing. "What is with you?"

Peter hunched his shoulders. "Can we just go home?"

Tony stared at the brunette for a moment in tense silence across the car roof before unlocking the vehicle. It was silent as Tony drove, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he glanced at Peter slumped in the passenger seat, staring out the window forlornly at the passing bystanders crowding the sidewalk on the main avenue. Tony wondered if Peter would realize they weren’t exactly heading home and the teen perk up in alert.

Peter's brow furrowed as he realized they were driving East toward the bridge, the opposite of home. "W-where are we going?"

"Hm? Oh," Tony glanced at him. "M.I.T."

"What? What do you-- What do you mean? Dad? Dad? Wh-- Is this because-- Is this because I hurt you? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. Dad?" Despite his dad's promise not to send him away just that morning, Peter was still freaking out.

"No, Peter. I talked with your father," Peter gulped. "He did not set you up with Loki. In fact, the way he put it, his relationship with your boss is like the Magic version of me and Justin Haemorrhoids," Peter cringed, "Or so your father indicted—as vaguely as you did with the job search, I might add." He sent his son a pointed glance. "Except Loki's actually a kick-ass arch enemy unlike Wannabe-me-Hammer. To think the little weasel actually had the balls to flirt with your dad and actually get into his surgical scrubs, and blackmail against me," he scoffed, grip momentarily tightening on the steering wheel at the memory; but Stephen was smart and had actual taste, not smarmy. "He's lucky I didn't put him in a dark hole for principle of it alone." He muttered darkly to himself.

"You mean, like you're doing with Mr Laufeyson?" Peter challenged, angry, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tony scoffed, utterly offended. "Excuse you, young man! You don't ever compare me to that leech. I've actually worked hard to get where I am, with S.I., Iron Man, _and_ our family. I don't backstab, use, or steal from people, Peter."

"I'm sorry," Peter mumbled, but burst a moment later. "It still doesn't change the fact that you're flirting with Mr Laufeyson. It's creepy, dad! He's an old man--" Peter looked furious when his father laughed at him. "It's not funny! It's embarrassing. For me, you, and dad!"

"Peter," Tony said sombrely. "I would never betray your father like that."

"But you do, when you... _flirt_."

"Harmless flirting, Peter. I promise. Your dad knows me, knows I would never do that, and I know you do, too. I'm charismatic, Petey. I got it in abundance and if I don't shower the good people with it, I'm likely to implode."

"Well, you're like the most social hermit I've ever known." Tony chuckled at the description. "That still doesn't mean I forgive you," Peter pointed out.

Tony sighed in acceptance. "You can hardly blame me, though, I mean... JARVIS, show Pete a pic of Mr Laufeyson, the God of Mischief and Chaos, would you? The real one." A light on the digital stereo touch screen blinked and a holographic image of the trickster was projected in front of Peter.

The teen stared at the image with a moment of incomprehension before he gaped at the trickster prince's mug shot, both in and out his of horned helmed and leather clad glory.

"I have a thing for arrogant, snarky, magic users. You should know, I married your father."

"That still doesn't make it okay."

"You're right, kiddo. It doesn't," Tony said quietly. "I'll turn it down a notch—or three," he corrected at the look Peter sent him that was a complete mirror of Stephen's. "God, you look like your father," he murmured.

Peter's cheeks went pink. "Dad!" he complained.

"What?" he asked, confused. Peter just faced out the passenger window. "Alright, buddy, this is it. Real Talk Time. You knew, at least partially what your were getting into with _Needful Things_. Your spidey sense must be tingling off the charts in that place. Tell me the truth."

"Yes, but--"

"Not buts, Peter." And his lips didn't even twitch at the sentence. "Magic Dad made that Spider Sense Charm for you so you could detect magic, sense _danger_ , walk the other way and call us, not get a job working there with some unknown magic user."

"Exactly," Peter agreed a little too readily and Tony gave him a narrow-eyed glance. " _Danger_. Yes, I got all tingling with the magic, but no klaxons of danger. And-and, you wouldn't have left me there for the day—alone—if you thought there was either."

Tony pulled to a stop in line at the red-light. "You're right." He looked over at his son, reached out and gently brushed his knuckles against Peter's cheek. "You and Stephen are the most precious things to me and if I thought for _one_ second Loki would hurt you, either of you, that place would be a crater, damn the consequences." His hand went back to the wheel and he accelerated through the intersection. "But that's not the point, Peter. You went behind both our backs--"

"And you're going behind dad's!" Peter protested in turn. "If you had told him, he would of had you pull me out and the Sorcerers would have raided _Needful Things_. So that makes us both liars."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Don't think you can try and turn this around on me, Peter Vincent James Stark-Strange." Peter's shoulders hunched at his full name in that tone of his dad's voice. "I am the adult, your father, and Iron Man, that means I hold authority in places that you don't. Loki doesn't pose a threat— _right now_ —what he's doing seems pretty harmless— _right now_ —this is just some little distraction for him and when he gets bored, then he really will live up to his name and it will, without a doubt, became Chaos in Manhattan. So, I'm keeping an eye on him, keeping his attention, distracting him with a game, a challenge. As soon as I see that restless twist in his emerald eyes," Tony snapped his fingers, causing Peter to jump at the sudden, sharp noise, "You're out and it's Superhero Time. And while you know I get bored, lonely, and reckless when your dad's away, your father is in the middle of critical peace talks, and this is not a distraction that he can afford."

Peter slumped in his seat. "I'm sorry."

Tony squeezed his shoulder. "How the hell did you even end up there, Pete?"

"Um," Peter now shifted uncomfortably.

"Pete?"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I g-got in a fight with Flash and ducked into the shop. Mr Laufeyson put a cloaking spell on me and when Flash came in, sent him away with a watch."

"A cursed watch," Tony sighed, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, feeling conflicted. "Loki said he didn't harm children, but that Flash always was a piece of work," Tony muttered. He could only speculate what kind of curse Loki placed on the watch, nothing so harmful as trapping Flash in time or something, maybe to hear the infernal tick-tock of the hands in his head to drive him crazing, or interfering with his perception of time so the mundane tasks seem drawn-out and the fun was short lived. Tony could definitely live with those latter options.

"Dad!"

"What, it's true." He said petulantly under his son's scolding glower. Tony sighed, "You're too precious for this world, Peter. I love you down to the nuts and bolts, kiddo."

"Love you, too, dad."

"We're home," Tony announced. "And you owe me a movie marathon with extra cuddles—and I'm cashing in all my chips."

...

Tony had left Peter all tucked up asleep on the sofa in the living room and (after catching a couple hours himself with Peter practically draped over him like Levi liked to do, [the passing of habits it seemed]) he finally got down to sciencing on the microscope Loki gave him on a silver platter in the lab, the temptress. While he went over the data from the scans using Stephen's Mystic Magic as a baseline, he had JARVIS go through everything God of Mischief related, particularly The Alphabet Soup databases and flagging the juicy bits, especially anything regarding Stephen or the Masters of the Mystic Arts.

Information and context could only be his friend on that story right now. He was cruising on the wave of this 'friendly frenemies rivalry' with Loki, but it could only be too soon before the wave broke and crushed him or he made it out of the tunnel. And Tony was damned if he wasn't coming out the tunnel triumphant, if not for himself, then the Stark-Strange family name. His husband was the damn Sorcerer Supreme he would not shame his husband, both professionally and personally, like that.

Tony would admit that Loki had really given him a leg up by giving him the cursed microscope, whether it was because he was confident Tony's curiosity would get the better of his self-control and he'd end up cursing himself (giving the trickster the game immediately) or to throw him off by giving him the key to his future or his failure (but Tony was never _over_ confident, he could back-up what he put out because he was awesome and kick-ass), still remained to be seen.

Having the actual cursed object here in the lab, imbued with Loki's specific magic, allowed him skip over a time-consuming work that he otherwise would have needed to do from the 'surface' scans JARVIS had done earlier at the shop. Using the basis of his magic detection tech, he tinkered with the calibrations, altered the program algorithm and made a prototype using the data specific to Loki's magic on the cursed microscope.

With the combined refusal of JARVIS' permission to subsist on caffeine to carry him and Tony's own refusal to leave the lab to go to the kitchen and grab it himself, he was forced to rely on DUM-E handing power smoothies off to him as he worked, it wasn't a wonder he ended up passing out at his work table amide glowing codes and his modified magic detection scanner after over 48 hours without proper rest.

Tony went to turn over, get more comfortable to ease the ache in his back, only to nearly topple from his stool with a yelp. He groaned, pulling himself upright, scrubbing his hands over his face. "God, I need a coffee. JARVIS, time?"

"It is 4:37 a.m. Sunday morning, Sir. Shall I suggest retreating from the lab to your bed for a few hours sleep until a more appropriate time?"

"I said 'coffee', JARVIS." He stretched his arms overhead, bones cracking. "Though... Is Pete still passed out on the couch?"

"He is."

"Nah, it's fine. He sleeps like the dead anyway, like any kid should. Nothing short of an alien invasion would wake him up at this point. Coffee and then we'll test this bad boy out." He pushed to his feet and out of the lab. "That pot better be brewing by the time I get up there, J."

It was, and Peter didn't even shift as the genius clattered lightly around in the kitchen, grabbing coffee and a granola bar. He paused by the slumbering teen, pulling the throw back up his shoulders, stroking a hand through his hair before retreating back down to the lab with his sustenance.

The output the cursed object was emitting was considered 'low energy' by his sensors, but it was actually rather intricate. It played innocent but Tony knew as soon as he triggered the curse it would go from low energy to high impact, there was no doubt. If Tony was ignorant and didn't already know that it was hexed, he would have just assumed it was the glamour that he sensors were picking up on, making it appear as high-tech, cutting edge microscope to his naked eyes as opposed to the ancient, gold, candle light microscope he was given with his protected gaze.

'It will reveal things beyond your comprehension...'

He would see things beyond comprehension alright, beyond comprehension and straight into the abyss of incomprehension, a dark, lifeless, bitter void of fear. Had he looked through the microscope and activated the curse, it would have stripped him of his intelligence and turned him stupid. He would have been a literal shell of himself. His brain was who he was, without the extraordinary way it work he wouldn’t be Tony Stark-Strange, he wouldn't be _himself_.

"Well, shit." He sat back, staring between the analysis of the curse on a screen and the innocuous-looking microscope, his dumplings nearby.

Thank god for his over protective AI and bots. DUM-E, his over eager menace. Despite her name, BUTTERFINGERS was his extra hand, his steady girl, she'd helped him with some delicate work over the years, including the Iron Man suit. U, his amateur documentarian. His wise, sassy baby boy JARVIS. He could only imagine a fracture of what FRIDAY would become until he brought her online and watched her grow and learn, like JARVIS, and like JARVIS was _still_ doing.

"It is bad that I still kinda want to look into it even though--" he jumped when DUM-E revved the fire extinguisher at him in warning.

"Yes," was JARVIS' dry reply.

"Alright, alright." He help up his hands in placation to the bot and rolled back on his stool from the cursed object on the lab table in surrender to their current authority. "It's about time for Pete to rise and shine, and me to get more coffee anyway." He headed for the door, and spoke before the AI could, "And yes, some actual food for me, too."

It wasn't him clattering around in the kitchen that woke Peter, but the enticing smell of frying French toast that encouraged movement from the lump buried under the throw on the sofa, nothing but a head of spiky brunette hair peaking from the top and a bare foot sticking out the end when Tony snapped a few picture on his cell before coming to the kitchen.

"Is that French Toast?" Peter got to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen like a colt just learning to walk, something that was still as adorable now as it was back then as a little tatter tot. "I have to pee but that smells so good and I'm really hungry," Peter muttered, perching on a stool at the breakfast counter.

"Ah, the hard hit decisions of a teenager," Tony set the plate in front of him. "The food will still be here if you take two to whiz."

"But I'm already here," he pouted. "Why'd you let me sleep on the coach?" Peter complained next, stretching one arm back behind his head even as he cut into his breakfast with the other.

"You're a little too big for me to carry to bed now, buddy. Didn't have any desire to throw my back out either. Besides, your youth can handle a night on the couch unlike my--"

"Old, withered, fragile body." Peter supplied cheekily, cheeks stuffed like a little chipmunk.

"Hey!" Tony swatted at him with the flipper. "I was gonna say mature," Peter snorted and Tony glowered. "Seasoned." He smirked, " _Tasty_." Peter made a face to his father's amusement. "I'll be 'old' when you give me some grand-Petey's and not a moment before. Meaning, 10 years at the very least, no teen pregnancy for you, mister!"

"I haven't even had a girlfriend yet, dad!" Peter protested in embarrassment, "You can't go talking about grandchildren."

"So you haven't been dating Michelle this whole time?" he teased. "Or are you still pining over Liz?"

"We're just friends." He corrected forcefully.

"Mm, alright. If you say so, sweetie." Tony replied nonchalantly, filling his own plate and sorting the last few onto Peter's before sitting. Peter grumbled unintelligibly under his breath, face heated as he hunched over his plate, taking too big bites, knee bouncing. Tony topped off Peter's glass of milk, holding the carton a little higher than necessary as he poured _slowly_. "That decision not to go potty first catching up to you, Petey-bird?"

"You're a mean Puddy Tat!" Peter cried shame through his mouthful, fork clattering on the counter as he dashed from the kitchen to the bathroom down the hall, Tony's laughter following him until he slammed the door.

"When you gotta go you gotta go." Tony finished his French Toast, downed the rest of his coffee before refilling it to take with him to the master bedroom. He showered, dressed and sat heavily on the foot of the bed still made from six days ago when Stephen first left for peace talks, and went over the information JARVIS had gathered on a certain trickster and sorcerer with a sentient cloak on the small holo screen projected from his gauntlet watch.

Disappointing, there wasn't much, but that wasn't a surprise. He wasn't really expecting all that much from S.H.E.I.L.D. than what he first saw, and he never expected anything on Stephen or much regarding Kamar-Taj, their records were _paper_ after all and he may be Tony Stark and he may be married to the Sorcerer Supreme himself, but it was still a magic cult that had been operating under the radar for hundreds of years for a reason that had only just recently come out to the world, so. But there was something to say about the number of bounties on the God's devilish head, and really, 'Prince' wasn't just some embellishment on a nickname, the guy was actually a prince, who knew. A wanted prince, but still.

"Sir, Master Peter is ready and waiting." JARVIS informed him.

"Alright. Tell 'im I'll be a minute." Tony collapsed the holo screen, grabbed a pair of gold-tinted shades and went down to the lab to grab the carry case with his new Loki Seiðr Detection hand-held, L.S.D. for short—magic always was a bit of a trip after all. He had contemplated giving the microscope back, but instead decided against it in the end, the bots stowing it back in the containment unit. One less cursed object out there and when Stephen finally found out, it would probably have the dual effect of distracting him and pissing him off more.

...

"So this can actually detect and determine Mr Laufeyson's cursed antiques?" Peter asked, the case sitting in his lap as Tony drove.

"Did you ever doubt me?"

"Well, no, but... do you really think this is a good idea?" Peter wondered, biting his bottom lip. "If what you said was true, about keeping him engaged to keep him from causing bigger trouble, shouldn't you, I don't know, prolong it?"

"You're advocating lying? I've corrupted you. It took 15 years, but I've finally corrupted you." Tony dismayed.

"Stop being dramatic," Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm being serious, dad."

Tony sighed and drummed his fingers briefly on the steering wheel. "I get where you're coming from strategically, kiddo, but if you forgot, a couple of Loki's nicknames include 'Liesmith' and 'Prince of Lies', I think that means he sees them as good as he gives them. And besides, me— _me_ being stumped by this is a bit of a stretch."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I mean, if you stop being gross and flirting with him, I think you two could actually be friends, taking into account if whatever happened between him and dad could ever be amenable to some sort of cease-fire. Besides, I think he's lonely, just like you get when dad goes to do his magic things."

"What does it say about a man's life when his kid tries to set him up on play dates?" Tony muttered to himself. He shook his head and addressed the brunette, "I flirt with your Uncle Rhodey all the time and it never bothered you."

"Yeah, but he's like your best-friend," Peter countered confidently. "Nothing could or would happen between you, like me and Ned."

"Ahem, yeah, right, okay. Point." Tony agreed and left it at that. Rhodey had been his first real boy kiss, not that Peter needed to hear that right now, but it wasn't like it ever went any further than that. Sourpatch had no interest in men like he did.

Tony parked at the curb and followed behind Peter into _Needful Things_ , the tiny bell dinging overhead, empty handed.

"As I predicted." Loki smirked in greeting and Tony rolled his eyes behind his shades. "Peter, why don't you gather some items from the backroom to fill up the empty spots on the shelves," Loki suggested.

"Alright. Anything in particular you want on display?" Peter wondered.

"Whatever catches your eye," Loki said, and after a moment added, "But I suggest you leave the sealed crate in the back well enough alone, he's just a bit temperamental at the moment. I don't believe Earth quiet agrees with him."

"Um, he?" Peter asked. "W-who is 'he'?"

"I second that," Tony said. "What exactly is this thing and how dangerous is it?"

"He is more decapitate than maim," Loki said. "I think we should leave it at that and leave him be. He's contained, as long as you don't disturbed the seals it will be fine."

"Peter, don't you think about going near that thing." Tony warned, dead serious. "I will not hesitate to ground you until even after you give me grandbabies."

"I kind of don't really want to, dad," Peter admitted, "Not even with my teenage defy authority curiosity in effect." Tony's gaze followed him as he entered the back, tense himself as the teen appeared a tad cautious.

The genius's gaze was pulled back to the trickster when he remarked, "Do you know of the children's story you have here of the possessed doll? Well, that is a watered down story based on this creature."

Tony sputtered. "I'm sorry. Are you speaking about _Chucky_ , the child's doll that is possessed by a mass serial killer's malevolent spirit that goes around killing the families that own it? You're telling me that it's really just some hosed-down, child book version of this thing? And you brought this thing here?!" he demanded. "And what the hell were you planning to do with it?!"

Loki gave a simple shrug. "I hadn't decided yet, most likely something entertaining."

"You son of a--!"

"Peace, Anthony." Loki held up his pale hands in placation. "I was only pulling your leg... well, that last bit at least. The rest _is_ true."

"As disturbing as the _rest_ of it is, you better be telling the truth. That monster gets lose on Earth, I don't care if you didn't do it on purpose, I don't care if it doesn't have a chance to hurt anyone, it gets out of this store, you're finished, I don't care what deal we have."

"Speaking of our game... I see you've returned empty handed once again, Stark."

"Well, Peter convinced me to play nice on the ride down here, but with shit talk like that, I really want to make you eat your words. I wore gold glasses and everything, and not even magic can get rid of all the traces of glitter, trust me, Stephen's tried, so you really want to tempt me?" he warned.

"Tempting is half the fun," Loki agreed.

Tony mirrored the sharp grin. "You won't be saying that in a minute and Peter certainly won't appreciate it. I'll just run out to the car."

"Stop blathering to stall and do it," Loki dismissed him, turning away.

Tony made a semi-inappropriate gesture to the snobby prince's back and quickly retreated back out the door to the fitted Audi when the creepy puppets clacked at him. "J, where--?"

JARVIS sighed. "Sir, perhaps you could abstain from your literal glitter flash--"

"No way." Tony cut him off at the metaphorical knees. "Prince Loki wants the whole 'pomp and parade' and who am I to deny him that?"

"It would hardly be the first time you completely disregarded royal authority,"

"Less sass and more 'where is it', JARVIS? Now's not the time to refuse daddy his toys when he's showing off."

"The compartment in the trunk, Sir."

"That's a good boy." Tony cooed and went to dig around in the trunk, letting out a whoop! when he found a glitter grenade. It was small, fit in the palm of his hand like a mandarin, the surface lightly ridged, an activation button that also acted as a timer like a wind-up toy. His own creation, of course, first invented when he was a young teen at M.I.T. and it was his first Prank Week; Rhodey still held a grudge today and claimed he was still finding glitter where there shouldn't be.

Small carry case in his left hand, he'd already pressed the activation button before the bell even rang overhead. "Here, catch!" he threw it across the shop to the trickster without further warning.

Loki raised his hand and the grenade stopped in the air several feet in front of him, a glowing green aura of magic surrounding it. With a flick of his wrist, it vanished before it could glister-‘splode and he inspected his nails disinterestedly.

"Where'd you send that?" Tony wondered warily, pointing.

"Certainly not my pocket dimension," Loki rose his chin, green eyes dancing, "That orange monstrosity is your vehicle, correct?"

Tony gasped. "You're pure evil!"

Loki smirked. "You have only yourself to blame, Anthony."

"He's not wrong, Sir."

"Traitor!" Tony told his creation. "I'm gonna have to incinerate it now, so thanks," he grumped to the trickster, who chuckled in response. "It was one of my favourites, too."

"And I would have had to do the same to my shop had I not."

Tony pouted, not much interested that the god had a point. "I can't believe you pocused my glitter bomb away, Reindeer Games, I told you that I was going to ease the burn of your defeat with glitter and gold, you can't just magic my aesthetics away!"

"You are stalling again," Loki observed.

Tony smirked. "Oh, in a second you're gonna wish that was true." He went over to the front counter, placing the case on top. He bristled a little as Loki used his superior height to lean over his shoulder to observe with mild curiosity. Tony pressed the pad of his thumb on the little scanner and the locks snapped open. He lifted the lid, "You threw away my glitter but this bad boy is the true gold."

"It _is_ gold," Loki conceded that one point, head cocked slightly as the inventor lifted the hand-held from the case. Tony may have had some time to kill and he had filled it accordingly.

He picked it up, the inert device activating to his finger and palm biometrics, just as most his important works, just like the Iron Man, just like his glasses, anything that in the wrong hand could lead to national or global devastation (if they could hack him/JARVIS which was a laugh). Some might call him paranoid or selfish, those people were the ones trying to steal his tech for their own dastardly deeds (The Ten Rings tried and failed and paid the Tony Stark Price; no one had been there to hold him back that time). The L.S.D. was specifically modified and coded to Loki's magic, his seiðr, and if it got into the wrong hands (in this case that being S.H.E.I.L.D. and A.S.O.S.As) they could _actively_ hunt Loki and there would never be any rest or peace henceforth for the trickster. Tony was cautious because he had no intention of letting that happen, while the L.S.D could be used as a weapon against Loki, Tony hadn't created it for the malicious reason.

"I call this bad boy the 'L.S.D.'," Tony announced proudly as the sensors immediately detected Loki's magic and it started to catalogue data down the touch screen. "'Cause magic is trippy." Loki didn't seem impressed by the acronym; Tony couldn't be sure if it was a lack of humour or the god simply did know of the narcotic. He wondered if Loki would figure out what his L.S.D. stood for. "Anyway. This beauty detects and catalogues all your 'Twilight Zone', 'Ray Bradbury', 'Friday the 13th' the series voodoo magic. Thanks to the microscope you so graciously gifted me—in the hopes of cursing me in turn." He scoffed, "Did you honestly think that would fly, that you could Stupefy me—in a literal sense of the word 'stupid'—and think that could go down with any measure of success?"

"No. Although, on the chance that that curiosity got the better of you..."

"Oh, it really might have if it was for my co-pilot and Power Puff Girls," Tony admitted offhandedly, making minute adjustments to the device.

Loki paused. "You have daughters as well?"

"What?" Tony blinked, looked up at the unexpected question and assumption. "Oh, well, BUTTERS is the only girl right now. The other two are boys. DUM-E would be Bubbles, BUTTERFINGERS would be Blossom, and You is totally Buttercup," he chuckled to himself.

"You named your child 'dummy'?" Loki looked disgusted. "And 'you'?"

"Yes, but with affection."

"That--"

"If I may, Sir?" JARVIS spoke up from his glasses for Loki to hear.

"Go ahead." Tony said.

"We, Mr Laufeyson, and by that I reference the aforementioned 'co-pilot' and 'Power Puff Girls', are constructed, created and cared for by Mr Stark. I am an autonomous Artificial Intelligence, while my siblings possess corporeal forms to assist Sir physically in the lab with his work..."

Loki listened intently to the AI, head cocked slightly, gaze focused on Tony, or more his glasses where JARVIS was projecting himself from.

"Don't sell yourself short, you're all my kids, J." Tony murmured. "You and the bots just require difference maintenance than Pete, you know, oil leaks instead of diaper changes, rogue code instead of teenage rebellion."

"A true creator of souls," Loki remarked quietly.

"Um, sure, thanks, I try." He shrugged a little. He fought not to squirm under the intense green stare. "Okay, but back to me winning because I'm awesome," he gestured the hand-held. "Stop trying to distract me by talking about my babies and watch me blown your mind with science!"

"Reject my offer to help you save face after that 'glitter incident' if you so wish," Loki said haughtily. "Go on, then, Anthony, show me your little project."

Tony stared at him before he laughed, cackled really. "Oh, Lokes! Are you sure you're the God of Mischief and not the God of Denial because you're clearly delusional about what's going to happen right now, i.e. Getting Outsmarted By Tony Stark. Don't worry, you're not alone, it's a very large, very depressed pool of people. It's an honour, really. But, I'm a nice guy, I'll hold your hand into defeat, why don't we start small, simple? The coffee mug," he plucked one off the top of a small display pyramid on the front desk and sat it from in center. The hand-held scanned it with a green data, catalogue... Tony's gaze scanned the screen, finger tapping against the side. He almost jumped when it chimed with the result, he was a tad nervous (he hid it well) as this was his first field test, but he wouldn't be him if he didn't have confidence in what he built. "Sacrilege!" Tony exclaimed. Loki had an absolutely delighted, evil smile on his lips. "You put a curse on co--"

"Dad." The tone of Peter's voice froze the man and he slowly turned to look at his son who'd come back from the backroom (a board game box under his arm called **Jumanji** , a lava lamp, and Jack-in-the-box in the other) catching him in a act.

"Peter, your boss in pure evil!" Tony tried to explain. "He is evil incarnate. He cu--"

"Dad, this is not how you make friends!" Peter hissed, coming around.

"Friends?!" Tony spluttered. "Me?! With him?! What about him?" he pointed at the trickster who looked way too smug behind Peter's back. "He's the one that egged me into it, he put a curse on coffee! Coffee, Peter! The sweet nectar of life Herself, why are you picking on only me?"

"Because we agreed in the car, but here you are." Peter waved a hand at him before crossing his arms over his chest, giving him such a disappointed look that Tony felt his chest squeeze.

Tony gaped. "That's not... but... he... cursed coffee..."

"Dad, can you please just _go_." Peter turned his back, putting his selected items on the shelf, and started needlessly adjusting the objects on display.

Tony was left to stare at his hunched shoulders. His jaw tightened with a click and he swiftly put the L.S.D. back in the case, snapping his closed. "Am I still picking you up later or should I just send JARVIS?" he asked softly. Peter just shrugged noncommittally. Loki had an expression Tony couldn't decipher. Tony squared his shoulders. "Mr Laufeyson," he said formally, turned on his heel and left.

"Sir..." JARVIS spoke quietly in his ear.

"Not now." Tony snapped, fingers clenched on the case as he walked passed bystanders on the sidewalk to his car.

Tony had to squint even behind the protection of his shades from the bright, sparking glare coming from his Audi windows with the shine of the bright overhead sun. "Let's face it, J, I think I'm actually the one that lost this round; he used my own methods against me." The inside of the Audi windows were painted dense with red and gold glitter, you couldn't even discern the interior of the vehicle. "The blow was not eased with glitter and gold; this is insult-to-injury," he proclaimed. "Sugar in the gas tank. I don't like this, J, I don't like this at all."

"You could say, this is how the other half lives, Sir, when you make flashy theatrics in your defeat of your opponents."

"Enemies, JARVIS." Tony corrected. "And if you think I could ever have sympathy towards my enemies, towards someone like Justin Hammer, than there's clear an error in your code. He's right where a weasel like him belongs, rotting in S.H.E.I.L.D. prison on the moon. He's not worth the time and efforts of a thought."

"Sir," JARVIS said in his ear after a moment. "I feel I have to say... do not use this to start some prank war with the actual God of Mischief, it will only lead to chaos and Dr Strange's ire when he inevitably discovers you going against his wishes in engaging with Loki Laufeyson."

"You have no faith in me, JARVIS." Tony pouted, though he had that last part right; Pissed!Stephen was going to be inevitable, especially since he was letting Peter hang out with a magical wanted criminal.

"Dare I hope that to mean you will concede that Mr Laufeyson bested you on a technicality and leave it at that?"

Tony scoffed. "Damn right—he only won because of a technicality, otherwise it was me with the win. And he cursed coffee, JARVIS. Coffee! That is the plasma of my blood, he turned Peter against me, I can't let that stand. No, no, the game is still on, J. I created a device that can detect and determine cursed objects specific to his magic, I'll take it that step further, create something to null the curses, that would definitely put his scheme under. It's all in the name of the game." He decided. "You take the car home, buddy. I'll catch a cab home, start having some fun in the lab with that cursed-oscope. It's the weekend and if I went to work now, Pepper'll have a stroke and then who would run my company?"

"Certainly, Sir."

Tony sighed, patting the car hood fondly. "Such a waste, can't even hand-me-down it to Peter for his Sweet 16 in the condition its in; he'd just track in glitter which would defeat the whole purpose."

...

Tony fussed over the coffee when he got home to assure himself of its beautiful purity, allowed himself one tumbler of whiskey, two fingers deep, to wallow in Peter's disappointment of him and cut himself off there. He went down to his lab, buried himself on making a magic-neutralizing device and blasted AC/DC to drown everything else out. He was on the verge of making a breakthrough when JARVIS cut off his music.

"It is nearing 4:30 PM, Master Peter will need to be picked up. As well, you have not eaten since breakfast."

"Right." Tony sighed. He set down his micro-tipped soldering iron and straightened up from the magnifying glass. "Better go pick him up, J, I'd hate to force another 'Embarrassing Dad Moment' on him."

"Sir, hiding down here will not solve anything, but inspire to make things worse."

"Dammit. Why did I make yourreasonable and responsible?" Tony grumbled in defeat, standing.

"The better to minimize your mistakes, Sir."

Tony pulled to the curb in the soft-top. He pushed his shades up onto his head; the storefront turning sleek and intriguing under the glamour, not at all intimidating like its true visage and inviting instead. He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger and sighed. Before Tony could even decide whether to risk going in and getting Peter or sending him a text, the brunette was already striding from the store and climbing into the car.

Peter said nothing. Tony waited until his son buckled his seatbelt before pulling out. His fingers tapped briefly on the wheel at the stop light. He opened his mouth and Peter reached forward and flicked on the stereo, turning up the volume. Passive-aggressive message received; Tony would put up with it for now, but not for long.

When he parked in the garage, Peter got out before Tony could pull a dad-move and lock the doors to make the teen _talk_ to him.

"What do you feel like?" Tony started, following the teen from the garage into the kitchen. "I was thinking--"

Peter grabbed the box of cereal from the counter in another passive aggressive move. "I'm fine with this, I'm not that hungry."

 _Well,_ that simply wouldn't do. Tony narrowed his eyes and snatched the box from his hand when the teen tried to leave. "Yeah, I don't think so. That's not how this works." He set the box back on the counter. "Now, as I was saying--"

"Like I said, I'm not that hungry." Peter turned to leave.

"Peter Vincent," Tony said lowly. Peter froze at the magic words, his soles squeaking against the kitchen tile at the abrupt halt. "Park your butt." Tony pointed. "Enough with the cold shoulder." Peter huffed but marched over to the stool. He leaned on crossed arms against the bar, glaring away from his father across at the cupboard.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but clearly I haven't been setting a good example these past few days, probably further back than that. Clearly, this isn't going to work. I'm too lenient when your father's away, I always have been, and it's not like either of us have protested it in the past, but it's clear I've taken a turn too far off the path to be anything but encouraging to this bad behaviour.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Peter." Peter slowly turned to look at him, lips pursed tight. Tony could see the swirl of emotion in his whiskey eyes so much like his own, guilt, anger, hurt, frustration, and classic Stark-Strange stubbornness. "It's not your responsibility to make me friends, either, and I'm sorry if you felt like it was.

"I taught you it was okay to lie and go behind our backs, your dad's back, by doing the exact same with petty excuses to justify it. It's **not** okay, it is so far from okay! You're fifteen years old, Peter, and no matter how many times you protest it, you. are. a. _kid_. You don't get to make decisions like that for yourself, _this_ clearly proves that. I obviously wasn't a good influence, I gave you a sponsored green light to be reckless and that's going to stop right now." Tony declared firmly. "Your little 'internship' at _Needful_ _Things_ ends now."

"B--" Peter started to protest, straightening his hunched posture.

"Atch!" Tony held up a finger, cutting him off. "It's finished, you're not going back. Come Monday, you're straight home after school unless you have club and I will know if you do or don't."

"I can't just leave Mr Laufeyson high-and-dry like that!"

"The God of Mischief doesn't get left 'high-and-dry', Peter, he can take care of himself like he has been for the millennia or so."

"That doesn't mean he should have to." Peter uttered under his breath.

"Enough. Loki is not going to be at a sudden loss for losing you after knowing you for _two days_. And I swear, if you even so much as step a foot on the same block..." he warned and Peter gulped. "For your volunteer hours for school credit, you can either shadow Dr Palmer at Metro-General like dad offered to arrange, or me at Stark Industries in the R&D Department, those are your options, I'll let you decide.

"No more lying to your father, I'm calling him and confessing to both our sins." Peter paled at that and Tony totally sympathized. "In the meantime, you're grounded. Go to your room, Peter. I'll call you when dinner's ready, and no screens, JARVIS will tell me if you do." Tony watched his son disappear down the hallway and up the stairs without further word, heard the faint click of the bedroom door; Peter knew better than to slam his door.

Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. "Call Stephen, J, see if you can get through. No holos. If you can't, just leave a message saying I need to talk to him." He went to the coffee machine, finger tapping against the counter as he watched it brew.

"I've left a message, Sir. Apologies, Sir."

Tony sighed and hung his head. "Why, J? You're not the one that screwed up, you're not the bad parent."

"I could have done more to assist you better--"

Tony shook his head. "It's not your responsibility to raise Peter, it's mine. You're awesome, J, and I saddled you with an impossible job of running my life. Remind me not to put so much pressure on FRIDAY."

"It's not pressure, Sir, it's a privilege."

The inventor gave a wan quirk of the lips. "I guess I taught you to lie, too, didn't I?" Tony responded wryly to the comment.

He straightened with a roll of his shoulders and abandoned the coffee maker to start on dinner. He grabbed a pound of ground lamb from the fridge and busied himself making meatballs in tomato sauce and pasta for dinner with some garlic knots thrown in the oven to toast; easy, simple and allowed him lots of room for distracted inattention. Tony went upstairs himself instead of using JARVIS as intermediary; he leaned against the doorjamb and knocked. "Dinner's ready, Pete. Wash-up, five minutes." Tony waited but a muffled 'yeah' was all the acknowledgement he received. He sighed, pushed off from the door and went back downstairs.

He'd set the places at the bar and was just taking out the garlic knots from the oven when Peter arrived. Tony served and they sat. Dinner was a quiet, pregnant affair, nothing but utensils scraping and glass clinking; dinner was never quiet, it wasn't supposed to be. It was serving to give Tony a stress headache and his already low appetite to wan further. Peter's plate had twice as much as his and he was eating it with the regular gusto of a growing teenage boy, no matter the mood. Tony waited for a 'thanks, dad, it was great', 'thanks for supper, dad', 'loved the meatballs, dad', that always came after, but not tonight; instead, as soon as Peter chomped the last meatball and slurped the last noodle, the stool was scraping back and he headed back towards the stairs.

Tony scraped his leftovers in the trash. "And where do you think you're going? These dishes won't wash themselves."

Peter muttered under his breath about the dishwasher but didn't argue further, trailing back into the kitchen. Tony plugged and started to fill the sink, squirting dish soap into the stream as Peter passed him along dirty dishes with a bit more force and speed than necessary. Tony reached to turn the tap off. "Easy, Pete before you b--" he felt the pinch, the pressure, then the burning sting as he looked over—Peter was frozen, wide-eyed, sharp knife in his hand as crimson blood dribbled on the floor between them.

Peter gasped, grey. "Dad, I didn't mean--!" the knife clattered to the counter from numb fingers.

Tony caught Peter against his chest before the teen's knees could give out. It wasn't that he was sensitive to blood, but the shock of accidentally injuring his dad. His wound became secondary as Tony focused on comforting his suddenly crying child.

"I'm sorry! D-dad. I didn't m-mean to. I d-don’t want-- I didn't wanna hu-hurt you!"

"Shhh. Hey, hey. It's okay, Pete. I'm okay." Tony promised into his hair, palm cupping the back of his head, elbow at his waist holding the cut away. "I know you didn't mean to. Shhh, it's okay Petey-bird. I'm here, I'm okay. I love you,"

Peter's shoulders shook and he lifted his head to look up at his dad, face blotchy and lashes clumped. "I'm sorry. It was an acc-accident, I s-swear! You have to know that, you--!"

"I know," Tony's thumb stroked his temple soothingly. "I know. Listen, I want you to go up to your room--"

Peter shook his head rapidly, fresh tears welling in his reddened eyes. "No, no." He clutched at his dad's damp shirt. "I wanna stay. I'm sorry! I love you. You said you weren't angry. Please don't send me away!"

"Peter," Tony murmured, quieting the boy. "I not sending you away, I would never send you away. I want you to change for bed, okay? I'm gonna put a load in the machine."

Peter blinked at him in utter perplexity. "O-okay..."

Hand at the crook of Peter's shoulder, injured arm tucked behind from view, Tony steered Peter from the 'crime scene' into the hall. Peter ascended the stairs like a skittish colt, constantly glancing back at his dad. Tony stayed there reassuringly (praying the brunette didn't notice the smears of blood staining the back of his shirt) until he was from view.

"Sir," JARVIS said quietly.

"I'm fine." Tony reassured him as well, ducking back into the kitchen. "Nothing a little duct tape won't solve—don't tell Stephen I said that." He grabbed the case from the top of the fridge; with a doctor for a husband and co-dad, it was fully stocked, but Tony simply cleaned it and stuck a XL adhesive patch Band-Aid on it. 'Crime Scene' was an exaggeration in terms of blood volume; there really wasn't very much, it was a shallow stab wound, just the tip of the knife but he knew with Peter's shock and upset it would appear like a slaughter happened in their kitchen. Tony quickly cleaned up the blood and had no qualms about simply trashing the guilty steel knife.

He bounded upstairs, two at a time and quickly stripped for his soiled shirt into Stephen's Columbia sweatshirt before going down the hall. He knocked on Peter's door by didn't wait for an answer before he walked in.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt crumpled in his lap, wearing one of Stephen's old scrub shirts that practically swallowed the skinny teen whole and a pair of novelty Iron Man pyjama bottoms. They were Peter's 'comfort clothes', just like this sweater was Tony's. Tony yanked it from his grasp and threw it out the open door into the hall.

Peter looked up. "Dad, I--" without the shirt, he wrapped his arms around himself.

Tony flopped down beside him heavily. "This is it, kiddo. Real Talk Time. Come on, Jack, time to spill those magic beans." He wrapped an arm around Peter's slumped shoulders, pulling him against his side. "If this was just about Flash, you wouldn't have lied like you did, not about something this big and dangerous."

Peter ignored the question. "I want to see it." He said stubbornly.

"There's nothing to see. It was shallow, Peter, practically a nick—a paper cut."

"If it's just a paper cut than why won't you show me?" Peter persisted. "Because you're lying! If it was fine, you would show me."

"If it'll keep you from torturing yourself, fine, I'll give you specifications... a deep paper cut. There. It's like... a _deep_ paper cut. Like when Aunt Pepper throws contracts at me like they're ninja stars and the corner--"

"Dad, it's not funny!"

"I'm being serious, Peter. Your Aunt has a secret life as ninja masquerading as a CEO, no one wears stiletto heels like that 24/7 for the hell of it--"

"Dad! Just show me," Peter said quietly, arms tightening around himself.

Tony sighed heavily but finally conceded and pulled his sleeve up. You could barely see it with the tone of his skin. "See? Paper cut. I literally slapped a patch on there and that was that. So, I'm right. I'm older and wiser and I grew you inside of me so you have to listen to me and believe me, so there will be zero ifs, when’s, or buts about it." Tony tapped him on the nose, causing Peter to scrunch it, but the teen appeared more placated. "Now, _my_ first 'if' is... if you're gonna be hugging anybody here, it's gonna be me." He opened his arms and waited. Though Peter was right next to him, Tony still let out an 'oomph' when the teen managed to fling himself at his father. "Ah, see, now this is better. This was the love I've been looking for." He rocked them, somewhat playfully, the rest just affection. He shifted back against the headboard, pulling Peter with him. "Now talk to me, kiddo. Why the sudden rebellion?"

"Everything just got out of hand," he mumbled, face turned against his shoulder, his arm across Tony's chest, fingers rubbing the sweatshirt material at his bicep.

"It usually does."

"It was this stupid co-op thing for school. I wanted to do it with dad and as soon as I brought it up, he started talking about shadowing Dr Palmer..."

"Oh, boy." Tony played with his short hair. He knew exactly where that conversation went because he knew exactly how Stephen felt about magic. "You wanted to become the Sorcerer's Apprentice, huh?"

"I like Doctor Dad, it's cool and incredible, and I know how hard he worked to become top in his field, all the while newly wed and raising a family—but Magic Dad... how many kids get to say their dad is the master sorcerer of the world? It's just so interesting and unbelievable, so many things to be learned and discover, but you know how he is. He's always so private and aloof about that part of his life."

"What else can you expect out of a cult, Pete, they're shady and selective, the magic aspect just makes them more pompous--"

"Dad!" Peter whined.

Tony gave a soft chuckle. "You were saying?"

"I didn't mean to lie. It just sorta... happened that way." Peter flapped his hand briefly in a feeling of helplessness before he went back to playing with his dad's sleeve. "He was just so... enthusiastic about me going to him, being interested in his medical work. I just didn't have the courage to ask him what I really wanted, I didn't want to hurt him, so I just told him I would think about it. And then, it was like, _the very next day_ , that I met Mr Laufeyson, like _it was supposed to happen_." He shot a glance up. "I was telling the truth about how I met Mr Laufeyson.

"He was just so open about it, unlike dad, and I got lost in it. Meeting another sorcerer that wasn't dad or Mr Wong and I think Mr Laufeyson appreciated my admiration of his disposition, his shop, ability... I don't think it was something he was used to. We talked and stuff and he offered me the position. And-and I thought, _this is my way to get to know magic_. It's not like I even lied for that long..." he tacked on in the one second of silence that followed his explanation.

"No, you just had both of us lying to your father by the end of the day." Tony said wryly.

"I'm sorry,"

Tony sighed heavily. "I know. I'm proud that you're taking responsibly for your mistakes, Peter, but you're not the only one who made mistakes. I'm sorry, too. I let my competitiveness get the better of me and I'm down an Audi as a result and I know I embarrassed you..."

"I'd rather have an embarrassing dad than an absent dad," Peter told him, squeezing him tight. "I love you the way you are, dad."

"Love you, too, kiddo. And I'm not going to take that as green light from you to act on every impulse of love for you in public--"

"Please don't."

"--because I know that's just my dad-brain misinterpreting your acceptance of my—shall we say... eccentricities?—yeah, let's go with that. JARVIS will help to keep the crazy under control, won't you, Major Co-pilot?"

"I'll endeavour to do my best," JARVIS answered.

"You are the best, J, so I have no doubt. But I don't think you tried very hard with the glitter."

"Do you foresee yourself using such tactics after what transpired earlier today?" JARVIS inquired.

"No..." Tony answered slowly, wary he'd walked into a trap.

"Then I believe I did my job quite efficiently, Sir."

 _Yep, trap._ "Clever, baby boy. Very clever."

"I do try, Sir."

"And you succeed very well. I can't even be mad about it." Tony turned his attention back to his son, "The matter of your school co-op stands; I don't think it would have even been accepted had you stuck with Loki, he's not a citizen of Earth, and he doesn't even have a proper business license."

"I guess you're right, but I still liked it there, I still like Mr Laufeyson."

"Yeah. The car, I can forgive, I deserved that—just glitter and all that—but the coffee? No, that's not a slight I can reconcile so easily."

"What was the curse anyway?" Peter wondered.

Tony scowled. "A compulsion to drink coffee from the mug."

"So...? I don't get it," Peter confessed. "You drink coffee compulsively anyway."

"The compulsion to drink **mediocre** coffee from it—with a side joy of urinary incontinence."

"... Oh. _Oh_. That is good-- I mean bad. It-it's a good curse for someone like you, I mean. That is like a _severe_ pet peeve for you, dad." Peter whistled. "Now I get why you were so upset."

"Thanks, Peter Pumpkin Pie. That man is diabolical, knows just where that sweet-sore spot is."

"I miss dad." He mumbled suddenly.

"Me, too, Peter." Tony sighed, stroking his hair. "Me, too."

"Did you tell him?" Peter wondered after a moment, sniffling.

"I couldn't get a hold of him. Don't think that means you're getting off."

"He's going to be so mad."

Tony sighed. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered.

"What's done is done," Tony said not unkindly. "We move past it now and learn from our mistakes. Now, close your eyes, it's been a long day."

"It's barely even 10 o'clock!" but it was a token protest as Tony started to hum the lullaby he played when creating FRIDAY. He stroked Peter's back and the teen slowly started to relax against him, the fingers playing with his sleeve stilled and his hand dropped to Tony's stomach as he drifted to sleep.

Tony didn't immediately shift out from under Peter, but continued to hum his lullaby with affection as it was punctuated by Peter's soft snores. Peter always used to fall asleep on him like this when he was younger during bedtime stories, Tony was all too happy to find that the habit remained even at fifteen; it may be rare but it was still present. It was the curse of his kid growing up.

When Tony finally managed to pull away, he tucked Peter under the covers and pressed a kiss to his forehead with a murmured 'I love you', and headed to his own room where he flopped back against the pillows and pulled out a tablet instead of what he should do—sleep. It really had been a long day, an emotional rollercoaster, a draining week, really and so it was only minutes later that his eyes were drooping and he was nodding off, slumping against the pillows that smelled like Stephen—to open his eyes to see the man's head floating before him.

"Dammit, JARVIS, I said no holo!" Tony cursed, sitting up. He couldn't face the anger, disappointment, and betrayal that would storm in those brilliant oceanic eyes when he admitted to going behind Stephen's back with his enemy, their son in company. But, no, he didn't deserve to get off easy, Peter was being punished for lying, now it was his turn.

"Shit, Tony, I didn't realize you were sleeping, JARVIS didn't say anything," there was reprimand in Stephen's voice directed at the A.I.; JARVIS deigned not to respond. "Sorry, babe, I know how hard it is for to sleep alone."

Tony just shook his head in response, waving the concern off. "I-- So, how's it going over there?"

Stephen's gaze narrowed slightly, recognizing the focus change but answered nonetheless. "The temptation to shove the Hambrosian Council into the mirror dimension and walk away would only be a minute satisfaction with their polydimensional existences."

"I thought your go-to fantasy was a portal to the Dark Dimension?" Tony said.

Stephen sighed. "I can hardly gain any satisfaction from that fantasy either, but we're not here to discuss that—I've had enough with politics—the message JARVIS left said it was important, I called as soon as I could. I would have managed earlier but you didn't use any of the trigger words so I knew it wasn't a _dire emergency_..."

"Yeah," Tony shuffled to the edge of the bed. "I think I was subconsciously stalling."

Stephen regarded him with worry. "What happened?"

"Mm." Tony exhaled heavily, standing and pacing around the room, snapping his right fingers and clapping his left hand over top. "So... husband, my lovey-dovey hubby..."

Stephen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Okay, now I know something is up. You only use saccharine pet names like that when you do something I've _specifically_ asked you not to and get into trouble doing it anyway."

"I was just stating a fact. Fact," Tony ticked off a finger, "You are my husband. Fact, I love you. Fact, I dove you."

"That's not even a thing," Stephen muttered in counter.

"Ipso facto—you are my lovey-dovey husband." Tony gave him a brilliant smile.

Stephen took a moment to face palm at how ridiculous his man was before he straightened and countered, "Fact, what did you do that's going to make me upset. Fact, the names make me want to throttle you more, not less."

"Maybe it's a good thing S.I.H.P.. isn't a reality so you can't strangle me long distance," Tony chuckled nervously.

"Fact," Stephen said. "The longer you wait to confess, the more irritated I will become. Tell me before JARVIS does, you know he won't do you any favours and embellish the story to get you out of trouble."

"He's not wrong, Sir." JARVIS finally interceded, but not on his behalf.

"I feel ganged up on." Tony mumbled with a petulance, arms crossed defensively.

"It's called owning up."

Tony grimaced. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.

"Tony, should I be worried?" Stephen questioned warily.

"Well, I'm on the side of 'no' whole-heartedly, but I have the keen feeling you won't agree."

"That sentence right there just makes my worry all the more valid," Stephen deadpanned. "Is Peter--?"

"Peter is fine and safe," Tony promised instantly and without hesitation. "He's in bed, sleeping like a rock. I might be reckless but you know that I would never do something that would get him hurt."

"I do." Stephen agreed. "But what the hell have you gotten yourself into, Tony? You're feeling guilty, that much is clear." He scrutinized his husband. "And... afraid?"

Tony gulped and faced the sorcerer. "So, about our talk yesterday..."

" **Loki.** " Stephen cursed with the realization. Levi was a sudden flutter of activity at his back.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. Nothing's happened, okay--"

"Not 'okay', Tony. He is a dangerous criminal--"

"He's set up a little curse shop," Tony flapped his hand dismissively. "I'm keeping an eye on it."

"Little cur-- _An old antique shop_ ," Stephen muttered in sudden realization to himself. He looked at Tony sharply, fury blazing in his oceanic eyes, "God dammit, Tony. Please tell me you weren't irresponsible enough to allow _our son_ alone with that maniacal mad-man--!"

"Okay, alright." Tony patted the air calmly. "What is the deal with this, Stephen? I've read the files and I gotta say, S.H.E.I.L.D. is as bad as a mall cop with this, recycling in the garbage and it's a pink slip! The only Loki I've seen is a bit of a diva, mischievous—obviously—a total show-off--"

"My god," Stephen remarked it realization.

"What?"

"You like him. You _actually_ like him."

"Ho-ho, let's not go as far as that, alright? He _interesting_ and _entertaining_ , sure, and yes, I needed a distraction while you were away, but it's all just icing on the cake of keeping an eye on him, study his magic. You know, science can be fun, Stephen."

"I'm calling the sorcerers and sending him packing." Stephen announced gruffly. "He's banned from Earth, Tony, I don't know how he made it passed the Masters' wards, but it certainly won't happen again."

"Don't you trust me?" Tony asked. "I c--"

"Not with him," Stephen sneered and went on a bit of a rant as he paced, disappearing in and out of screen.

Tony didn't hear it, just the sudden ringing in his ears. He remembered Peter's accusation of betraying Stephen... but this... this wasn't a confused, angry teenager, this was his _husband_ of 17 years, his partner of 20 saying he didn't trust Tony. The ring was on his finger and it was there to stay, Tony Stark took a vow when he became Tony Stark-Strange, he took that seriously.

There were several facets to his flirting, to charm investors, to put board members at ease, to discomfit his enemies, show affection for friends; the real allure only came out to Stephen—only ever Stephen.

When Stephen got into the car accident and nearly lost the use of his hands. He was still recovering when Tony went into early labour, unable to feed or change a diaper. But with the bots programmed with baby care, with Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy, they made it over the hump of the handicap those first couple months and when Tony watched Stephen feed and change and bath their son for the first time...

When Tony's Humvee was targeted in Afghanistan during one of his weapon's demonstrations for the military, he fought tooth, nail, and heart to get back to his worried husband and their toddler. Their lives had been utter chaos the following year; Tony returning home to a toddler that barely recognized him, several open-heart surgeries, he and Pepper completely gutting and revamping Stark Industries, Iron Man and the mess secret, shady spy agencies BS that came with it.

When a bald woman dragged Stephen away into a secret magic cult to become its next supreme leader, with its own brand of crazy BS, a new crotchety, Beyonce fanifile, best-friend, juggling marriage, fatherhood, doctordom, and master to the Masters of the Mystic Arts.

They weathered it all, coming out stronger on the other side. They survived a family. They trusted each other, believed in each other.

" **Not with him,"**

It was like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving his chest tight and breathless. The colour drained from his face and he suddenly felt _ill_. Tony didn't know what he did to inspire such mistrust with the two people he cared about most, who's opinions mattered most. He sat heavily on the foot of the bed, almost falling onto it with sudden weak knees.

"Sir, your blood pressure has suddenly dropped!" JARVIS spoke in concern. "Y--"

"Mute," Tony croaked, arms wrapped around his stomach, head bowed.

Levi clipped Stephen on the ear with the corner of its collar. "Ow! What was that for?" Levi gestured demandingly through the screen with its hem, jerking the sorcerer forward as if to carry him _through_ the holo screen. "Tony!?" Stephen exclaimed when his gaze finally landed on his husband. "Tony, what's wrong? JARVIS, what happened?" he demanded, but the A.I. was silent.

"Peter accused me of the same thing just yesterday," he spoke to the carpet in a strained voice. "He was just upset and he apologized, but do you know what it does to a man, a father to be accused by his own son?" Tony chocked. "But then to have my husband say the same..." He could blame Loki for this, but really, it was his own hubris, the folly of his boredom, his cat's curiosity. Tony finally looked up at the holo screen. "You have every right to be angry with me, I know I don't deserve your lenience. I lied to you, I went behind your back, condoned it to Peter, and left our son in the hands of danger. But you have to _know_ , Stephen," he pleaded, whiskey eyes misty. "I would never betray you like that—not you, not our marriage, not our son, not our family. I deserve your anger, but just tell me that, tell me you a least believe in that?"

"Alright, enough of this," Stephen muttered and the screen disappeared. Tony's heart seized in his chest, but before he could start on a real downward spiral, amber sparks showered from a point in mid-air. They wheeled around, expanding, framing the formed portal. Stephen stepped through, the Cloak billowing out behind him in indignation. The portal sizzled out behind him.

"Stephen, what--?"

"Anthony Edward Stark," Tony's jaw clicked shut, Stephen never hyphenated when he was super pissed; it was like a little disownment without it. "You are my Strange one."

"What?" Tony asked weakly, hopefully when Levi flew to him and draped over his hunched shoulders.

Stephen knelt in front of him, cupping his cheek. "You are my Strange Stark. You can be a crazy fool, Tony, but I _know_ you wouldn't betray me like that, betray our family. If I didn't, I never would have married you. I will talk to Peter later, but at the moment there's something more dire I need to do." Tony looked at him wide-eyed with worry at his grave tone, but the doctor's hand shifted to his nape and he pulled his husband into a searing kiss.

Tony gasped into his mouth, almost sobbed into it with relief as he clutched desperately at Stephen's shoulders, fingers digging into the thick material of his robes.

Levi flapped from his shoulders as Stephen pushed him back onto the bed, devouring his mouth, hand stroking bare skin under his sweatshirt. Tony arched with soft groan at the touch of those long, lethal surgical fingers. Stephen kissed along his jaw, down his throat, sucking and licking flesh, leaving a mark. Tony's fingers found their way into his styled hair, mussing it. Stephen released his throat, slithered down his body, fingers stroking down his ribs and hooked into the waist of his jeans.

"I like where this is going," Tony grinned down at him.

"This is not a reward for your bad behaviour. This is reassurance that I know you would never defile the sanctimony of our marriage, Tony. I'm still upset with you, but—Later." Stephen growled and pulled Tony's pants down his hips.

...

"I've missed you," Tony murmured, turning his face and pressing a kiss to the underside of Stephen's jaw. "And not just for your body and the sex that comes with it." Levi thwapped him on the ass through the covers in indignation. "Or your Magical Cape of Wonders and Cuddles," Tony stroked the Cloak's hem with apologetic reassurance, "How could I forget?" Pleased, Levi petted Tony's cheek with contented affection with its collar in return.

Stephen couldn't help the fond smirk at the corner of his lips at the interaction; he'd long ago discarded the impractical twinge of jealousy at the instant connection the two had, when their own partnership started off a little rough. "Always gratifying to be considered for more than my body by my own husband," he said wryly in tease, his hand tucked under the Cloak as he idly stroked between Tony's shoulder blades.

"I do. You are." Tony said seriously, leaning up on an elbow so he could look into the sorcerer's eyes. "Stephen, when you said 'yes', it was one of the happiest and most scary moments of my life. Our life hasn't been easy, but I have no regrets because you were always there, we trusted each other. I betrayed that trust so many times in the past two days it makes me sick at myself..." he dropped his gaze with shame and guilt.

"I know this is partly my fault," Stephen admitted, pushing himself up against the headboard.

"What are you...?" Tony slowly sat up in confusion.

"I was evasive with my response when you asked about the trickster, allusive of my past encounters with him, with nothing more than a generic explanation of him being dangerous and for you to stay away, for you to leave it to the Masters—all of those indicators was just like throwing chum into the ocean of which is your vast curiosity." Stephen sighed heavily. "You do deserve the truth... Loki is the God Mischief, he is chaos personified—I am rather partial to order and control."

"And yet you married me," Tony remarked. "Clearly you fell under the spell of my Stark Charm because you overlooked my base personality—chaos."

"Tony, I can count literally six people that you trust enough to relinquish control to." Stephen stated. "You control the narrative of every room you walk into, you do every project by your own hand... you're a shrewd businessman with a bleeding heart of gold. You're as rare as a unicorn."

"Are you saying unicorns are real?" Tony asked.

"For the last time, this isn't a Harry Potter Verse. A metaphorical unicorn."

"That's like saying Santa isn't real."

"Santa isn't real," he deadpanned.

"You're like the killer of childhood dreams, the crossbreed of the Grinch and He Who Shall Not Be Named—except you're gorgeous, like the devil in angel wings."

Stephen's oceanic eyes twinkled with mirth because he could see the grin trying to break free from Tony's pursed lips. He continued sombrely after a moment, Tony sobering. "Loki... Loki is chaos manifested. He gets off on disorder, disruption, disaster."

"The Three D's of Chaos."

"It's the opposite of Mystic Arts, to keep order in this reality. He uses magic to pervert the natural order, Tony. We keep the water's surface calm and Loki's skipping pebbles across it, sending out ripples of chaos. It's everything I despise."

"That's because you're a control freak, darling, classic Type A personality—don't give me that look, you know I love you for it."

Stephen sighed. "He doesn't see the moral line. That's why there are so many bounties on his head."

"Do you trust me?" Tony asked again.

Stephen looked him in the eye. " **Yes**. It's Loki I don't trust, not with Peter, and especially not with you."

"Why _especially_ me?" Tony narrowed his eyes.

"You have a tendency to attract undesirable attention. A prime example... Hammer is jealous and completely in love with you."

Tony gagged. "Excuse you! One, don't say that name in our bed again, in fact, in this house. And two, I agree he's jealous—I'm awesome—but he is not _in love_ with me. No. Just, no, Stephen, I can't unhear that!"

"He is totally, unhealthily obsessed with you, Tony." Stephen didn't let it go.

"Obsessed with my awesomeness," he corrected, shuddering at the thought of it being something else. "But, whatever. Fine, that's one terrible example."

"Aldrich Killian."

"Wrong. Killjoy was obsessed with _Pepper_ , Iron Man was an obstacle to go through to get to her and achieve that little terrorist plot of his to kill the president." Tony corrected smugly.

Stephen just shook his head slowly at his husband's obtuse perception on the influence he truly had—especially upon his enemies. "The Maximoff twins."

Tony's eyes bugged a little at that. "Okay, now you're just grasping at straws. They blamed me for their parents' deaths, they were not in _love_ with me like apparently every villain I've gone against, alright? You're being ridiculous, Stephen." He scoffed.

"They were obsessed with getting their revenge on you for years, Tony. They read every gossip rag, news headline, puff piece about you. They stalked you... it was like reversed Stockholm Syndrome, all twisted up in hate. It's actually called Lima Syndrome after--"

Tony chopped his hand through the air between them, cutting him off. "I don't care what it's called! I don't know what we're even talking about anymore. Even if what you're saying was true—which it's not because it's fucking ridiculous—wouldn't it stand to reason that they would go after _you_ , the one that holds my undivided affection, hm?" he crossed his arms smugly at his sound reason in the face of Stephen's silence. "Exactly. So, if the next words out of your mouth are a Loki Love Confession, I will lose what last sanity I possess. I can only see him doing that to screw with you and I would probably be in on it!"

"Tony," Stephen's eyes flashed.

"No." Tony jumped to his feet on the bed in frustration, buck but for Levi fluttering against his backside, looking down at Stephen. Levi rose the corner of its hem to at least give the sorcerer a chance of paying the inventor's words any mind. "Peter said he thought we could be friends. If you just get past your rivalry with each other... and as embarrassing as it is to be set up on a play date by your own son, he wasn't all that wrong. But for two instances: glitter-gone-wrong--" he ticked a finger.

"Glitter is _always_ wrong," Stephen corrected under his breath.

"Little girls everywhere and I would disagree," Tony countered seriously and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "And the cursed coffee," there went his middle finger to Stephen's amusement, that was one sure-fire way to make an enemy out of Tony Stark-Strange. "Perhaps the minor worry of a monster in a box. I don't know what this thing is, but apparently Chucky is literal Child's Play to this thing. I've seen some weird shit thanks to your magic mojo dimensional portals, like tentacle monsters. Literal tentacle monsters! Those are only supposed to exist in b-movie and anime—blame Peter for the latter, and the former, I grew up in the eighties, cut me a break, that was the niche of terrible monster movies." He shook his head, "But I'm getting sidetracked!"

"We'll circle back to the monster in the box."

"What I'm saying is, it wouldn't be the first time we turned an enemy into a good guy."

"Tony, he is not staying on Earth." Stephen stated firmly, leaving no room for argument on the subject. He made a gesture at Levi and the Cloak nudged Tony, lowering the genius back onto the bed, into his husband's lap, knees straddling him. "This is the bleeding heart of gold I was talking about, I cannot fathom why you like him, but you're you so I'm not very surprised... but he's trouble, Tony. I don't trust him. I can't, not with how many times he's broken whatever chance I've given him. I warned him what would happen if I found him on Earth again." He uttered darkly.

"Then... _trust_ **me**." Tony requested. "Know that I love you, because I do, and if Loki ever tried something, I wouldn't return the sentiment. Trust me to send him packing without causing New York's downfall. I already built a device to detect and determine his curses and I just had a breakthrough on the L.M.N.S."

Stephen quirked a brow. "Lemons?"

"Yeah, I'm calling it Loki Magic Neutralizer Spray, L.M.N.S. for short—Lemons!" Tony grinned. "I like that. I'm gonna use frequency to cancel out Loki's 'magic waves', transmitted by nanobots. I'm recycling from my Bleeding Edge Armour project."

"And you've done all of this just this weekend?"

Tony shrugged. "I had a lot of time on my hands with you gone."

"How'd you even get enough scans of Loki's magic to built any of this?"

"He didn't even try masking it, and of course, J can see through everything. I also have one of his cursed objects in the lab. He literally handed it over to me, wouldn't let me leave the shop without it—hoping to curse me, obviously."

"Tony!"

"What? JARVIS and the bots wouldn't let me try it so there's nothing to worry about." Stephen didn't need to know that Tony planned on using it to test Lemons effectiveness with actual use and activation of the curse placed on the object.

"You are infuriating," Stephen gritted, but it was more through frustration than with any real heat.

Tony's fingers drummed on his collarbone with a cheeky grin. "You love it."

Stephen rolled his eyes, but the crinkles at the corner of his eyes confirmed it. His fingers trailed over the Band-Aid on Tony's forearm. "Finally gonna tell me what happened here?"

"Just an accident earlier in the kitchen, I wasn't paying attention." Tony dismissed. "You should be proud; I only _joked_ about the duct tape treatment."

"Improvement at last," he teased, and pressed a kiss to it.

"Oh, Doctor," Tony practically purred, nipping at Stephen's lips. "I gotta tell you, your bedside manner greatly improves once you get in it."

"You're trying to distract me," he whispered against Tony's mouth.

Tony arched against him. "Is it working?"

Stephen groaned, fingers fisted in his hair as he devoured Tony's mouth. "I have to get back before Wong throws a fit."

"Just a few more minutes," Tony panted, rocking against him.

"It would be bad work ethic if I didn't finish my rounds," Stephen grabbed Tony's hips, his own bucking up to meet his husband's. "Tony!"

"Ah, Doctor Strange!" Tony's arms tightened around his neck, pressing them together. "You treat me so good. Stephen!"

They stilled, sweaty skin pressed together, shuddering in each other's arms as warmth pooled between their bodies. Tony collapsed against Stephen, panting into his neck as his orgasm faded; he kissed a mark on the pale skin while he was there, Stephen's fingers tracing up and down his sweaty spine.

"If every doctor visit was like that, I would have no problem getting a check-up at the hospital," Tony noted, pleased.

"If a doctor other than me touches you like this, the Dark Dimension would be a kindness compared to what I would do to them." Stephen growled.

"You're the only doctor for me, Strange, through and through." Tony said.

"Good." Stephen sighed and rested his forehead against Tony's, "I need to get back—for real this time."

Tony pouted. "You're too ethical if I can't even tempt you to linger by putting out."

"You're the most tempting thing in all the dimensions, Tony, that's why you're such a trouble magnet."

"That just means you have to stick around and keep me out of trouble."

Stephen smirked. "You gotta pick one, dear... either you can handle the trickster or I gotta hold your hand." He pushed Tony onto his back and kissed him. "Which is it?"

"Oh, you're evil!"

"I'm gonna hop in for a quick shower," he climbed from the bed.

"Look in with Peter before you go, kiss him goodnight, he's been missing you as much as I have and is as much of a hot mess as his old man."

"We _are_ going to have a family talk when I finally escape my bloody nightmare of these negotiations."

"If it's any consolation, I did have _a_ talk with him. No more magic shop for him, just an ultimatum of R & D or the E.R. for his co-op assignment."

"That's a start..."

"I'll evict Loki from Earth, you just focus on the S.T.U.P.I.D.L.Y. treaty and come home."

"That's the plan. I'll be back in a minute."

"And that means I get five more minutes, mom, with my magic blanket, all comfy and warm." Levi fluttered against his neck in response and Tony's gaze followed his path buck across the bedroom into the en suite. Levi tugged underneath him and Tony rolled over onto his stomach, freeing it. "Oops." But the Cloak just settled back onto his back. "Thanks for the company, L." Levi squeezed him in response, a hug. "J?" Tony called softly, drowsy.

"Yes, Sir?"

Tony exhaled in relief. "I'm sorry for sending you to your room, buddy, you were only concerned, you didn't deserve that."

"I appreciate the apology, Sir, thank you. Please rest."

Tony was already dozing off to the sound of the shower, Levi a familiar weight and presence covering him, JARVIS a constant companion.

"Come on, if I don't get to stay, neither do you."

"Steph'n?" Tony mumbled at the sound of his husband's muttered words.

Stephen gave a sighed and hissed, "Now look what you did, you woke him up." _thwack!_ "Ow!"

Tony jolted and looked at the magical pair with sleepy amusement. "Love you both, though I'm always one to appreciate being fought over. A sure fire way to solve this _would_ be getting back into bed, Stephen." Levi flapped in agreement.

Stephen sighed, dressed back in his Supreme garb, his dark hair glossy with moisture from the shower. He leaned his forearms on the bed, chin resting on his fists, level with Tony. "You know that's what I want to do and never get out again, but the faster I portal back, the quicker Wong and I can get this done so I can do exactly that—and I need Levi with me."

Levi drooped against him and Tony pouted, knowing the sorcerer was correct. "Levi _is_ the JARVIS of Cloaks of Levitation. One of a kind, kick-ass, and they keep our gorgeous asses in line and out of trouble. We are just the faces of their kick-assery."

Levi rose the corner of its hem and waved at one of JARVIS' sensors. "We both completely agree, Sirs, and accept your accurate depictions and compliments."

"Sassy boys!" Tony grinned, pleased.

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You're a terrible influence."

"It's called character."

"You're all characters, that's for sure."

Tony lifted his chin and kissed him. "The only stick up your ass is allowed to be mine." He nibbled his bottom lip. "The faster you leave, the quicker you'll _come_ so I can give it to you."

"Like I said... terrible influence." But there was a smirk on his lips as he rose, Levi flying over to settle on his broad shoulders with flare as he opened a sparking portal.

"You love it!" Tony called after them, wiggling his fingers in farewell, rolling himself into a comfy blanket burrito as the portal closed. JARVIS turned off the lights. "Night, J."

"Goodnight, Sir."

...

Freshly showered and dressed, Tony followed the scent of frying egg to the kitchen, Peter busy at the stove cooking scrambled eggs.

Tony pressed a kiss to his hair as he passed to the coffee machine. "You're making breakfast, that's nice, Pete."

"I had a dream that dad tucked me in last night." Peter said abruptly. "Did you... have you talked with him?" he poked at the eggs with the spatula, not looking at his father.

"Last night, he called back." He took a sip of coffee, watching the teen.

"And..." Peter licked his lips nervously. "Did you tell him everything?"

"Yep."

"Like, _everything_?" Peter pointedly looked at the arm holding the coffee cup and the Band-Aid exposed from his folded up shirt sleeve.

Tony sighed, set his coffee down, turned off the burner before Peter got even more distracted and the eggs burned, and steered his son onto a bar stool. "I told him the truth, it was an accident in the kitchen caused by distraction."

"So you lied—again."

"It wasn't a lie, Peter."

"I stabbed you! _that's_ the truth, dad."

"Did you do it on purpose?"

Peter gaped at him in horror. "No!"

"You were upset, distracted. I was upset and distracted, too, Pete. Those are the facts and I told your dad the facts. Alright?" Tony pulled him into a hug.

"You should have let him look at it anyway." Peter mumbled into his shoulder.

"I forgot it was even there until I was in the shower and the Band-Aid got wet." Tony dismissed. "Now, eat these wonderful eggs and get to school."

"How do you know they're wonderful?" Peter countered, spearing egg with his fork. "You haven't even tasted them." He pointed the fork at his dad.

"Because anything you do is wonderful, and besides, cooking runs in your dad's and my veins, point in fact—" Tony stole the bite from the fork still pointed challengingly at him, "Mm! _Magnifico!_ " he kissed his fingertips.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" but there was a little grin on his lips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Pumpkin." Tony feigned innocence, refilled his coffee and sat with his own plate. "Eat, school." He reminded. "Daddy's got work to do."

[end...tbc?]

**[AVENGERS]/ rick & morty**

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**So... pretty nervous about this. I hope nobody is too OOC, but this _is_ and alternate universe so I'm allowed to get away with it??? :) Is it weird that I find it harder to write Tony as Irondad when I make him Peter's _actual_ dad in the story? Definitely weird.**

**Anyway, I'm working on the second chapter, part 2, crossing fingers that it doesn't take like 3 months!**

**EDIT: That last part was a total lie, at least to myself, especially to myself. I finished this chapter in April 2019 (when I was on my brief Avengers kick), haven’t wrote a lick for part 2 but I’m going to be cruel and post this for you all to enjoy and invest yourselves in. You never know, I completed ‘Vegas Love’s' part 2 five years after posting part 1! Is the cruelty working yet? LOL**

**Idk, it can kinda read as one-shot…**

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**EDIT AGAIN: If anyone is interested, here is a synopsis of the Part 2 That Will (probably) Never Be:**

_Tony goes to Needfull Things with his L.M.N.S. to evict Loki from Earth, though only as a last resort, but Loki being Loki isn’t just gonna skip away without a fuss. So, after a lot of back-and-forth sass between the two, Tony uses L.M.N.S. and of course it’s a total success_ — _this is Tony Stark we’re talking about. While it disabled all the magic on the cursed merchandise, it also had the effect of nulling all of Loki’s wards that he had up to keep himself protected and hidden._

 _The ground starts to rumble, a beam of light suddenly smashed through the ceiling and snatches both up. It’s the Plutonions from Pluto, who have been after Loki because he tricked them into mining their planet for plutonium, thus shrinking their planet and causing it to become declassified as a planet. Tony and Loki team-up to fight, but Tony only has if gauntlet watch with him. The Plutonians tech breaking his connection with JARVIS. By the time they defeat the Plutonians, Tony has been injured and poisoned by a plutonium based energy weapon. The pair beam themselves back to Needful Things, which is rubble and ruins, Stephen is there in his full Sorcerer Supreme mode with Levi, after JARVIS contacted him for losing connection with Tony. Tony is weak and nearly collapsed, but Loki catches him_ — _and with a sly smirk at Stephen, presses a kiss to Tony’s mouth, enveloping Tony in magic green light. When they separate, Tony is a little dazed, but healed. Stephen snatched him away, and before Stephen can send him into the Portal of Forever Falling, Loki says "You can thank me later" mysteriously and vanishes. Stephen sweeps Tony back home through a portal, Levi just as tight around him as Stephen’s arms. Suspicious of Loki, Stephen exams Tony to the edge of his patience with magic and machines alike to rule out anything nefarious_ — _everything appears alright._

 _Later… **[[**_ **They were having sex when it happened. Tony arched against him, crying his name as he orgasmed, pulling Stephen to the finish line with him. And the sorcerer was stunned and helpless to do naught but watch as Tony's irises flashed a familiar, glowing green.**

**"Tony? Tony!" Stephen said urgently, cutting through Tony's post-coital bliss and he snapped his eyes open, lifting his head.**

**"What is it? What's wrong? J--"**

**Stephen exhaled in relief, cupping his husband's cheek as he stared into his beautiful, warm, whiskey-coloured eyes, not a trace of green in them. "Nothing, nothing. Just my mind playing tricks on me."**

**"You don't sound like that if it's nothing, Stephen." Tony countered, sitting up, making Stephen sit back as well. He took the hand not cupping his face, lacing their fingers.**

**"JARVIS, did you detect a spike of magic here three minutes ago?"**

**"Wha--?" Tony started.**

**"A barely discernable spike was detected on the sensors." JARVIS spoke.**

**"I don't suppose you were recording?" Stephen questioned.**

**"A sex video, Stephen? Well, I never! And certainly not when we're being so vanilla."**

**Stephen ignored him. "Can you determine the source, the owner of the magic?"**

**"Source Location: the master suite. Source owner: traces percentage... Loki Laufeyson."**

**"Excuse me?" Tony exclaimed. "A.I. says what? Stephen, one or both of you start explaining—better yet, you're interfering with my post-coital cuddles and I am not a very happy camper." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Can't this wait?"**

**"No."**

**Tony sighed and flopped back down. "JARVIS," he grouched in order.**

**"I am detecting no more trace signs of foreign magic," JARVIS informed them. "Other than that faint blip, readings have normalized to previous levels. The traces were so low, had I not had Mr Laufeyson's magical signature in my database, it never would have registered, or if so, dismissed because of how weak it is."**

**"Whatever Loki did to you, it was just triggered, however brief."**

**"It could just be a coincidence." Tony tried.**

**"There are no coincidences where that asshole is concerned."**

**"A sex curse? Is nothing sacred to him? First coffee, now sex. I'm starting to see why you think he's such a menace to society."]]**

_Still, Stephen and JARVIS detect nothing untoward after the glowing incident, life goes on. Tony gets FRIDAY up and running. They celebrate their newest member._

_Then… **[[**_ **"Boss, I'm detecting a slight elevation in your temperature," FRIDAY spoke up, "You should take a break, rest for a few hours. Perhaps a cup of tea wouldn't go amiss."**

**"I don't need sleepy-time tea to go to bed like a child." Tony protested.**

**"Sir," JARVIS spoke, "Dr Banner specifically gifted you that tea to help with your bouts of insomnia. Past data shows a 12% productivity in your REM after consumption. I also agree with FRIDAY's assessment."]]**

_But it’s not just exhaustion running down Tony trying to track down Loki_ — _turns out, Tony is pregnant again. Something they thought/was impossible after complications Tony had while carrying Peter. When Loki cured him of his plutonium poisoning, his magic had completely healed the genius._

 _Loki pops up in the hospital room after the birth, Stephen cradling their new daughter at Tony’s bedside. They name her_ Donna-Maria Virginia Stark-Strange.

**[["I told you, you’d be thanking me." Loki snarked.**

**"Lokes," Tony said with a familiarity that Stephen doesn’t like. "Nice of you to show up, I’ve been looking for you. I guess we really do owe you thanks. Seems only right to ask you to be her god father."**

**"No!" Stephen protested sharply and Loki just gave the sorcerer a wide grin.]]**

_The happy ending of the nonexistent Part 2!_

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**Happy Holidays, hope you enjoyed! :)**


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